Where There's Smoke
by Caramelchan
Summary: Nikki investigates a death in a house fire, which suddenly hits too close to home. Drama, angst, friendship and romance, plenty of Harry/Nikki love.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi all, as some of you may or may not know, I've been hanging around the Silent Witness fandom for a while, reading and enjoying all of your stories as a sort of revision stress relief, but I've also been writing my own, from an idea I had literally 10yrs ago and rediscovered when I was clearing out a pile of old notebooks in my parents house, but I digress. I hope you enjoy._

 _This is set in the Harry era, between season 14 and 15. I'm not over him leaving! Therefore, I will assume that anything I mention that refers to an episode will not count as a spoiler!_

 _Rating will be a T._

 _Dedicated to the two lovely friends who have been kind enough to read over my story, pick out all of my errors, and chat with me and generally fangirl over mutual love of Silent Witness. So thank you hushedgreylily and Tricki. Love to you both._

* * *

As Nikki approached the house, she mused that she always hated the burned bodies. The smell, the fact they no longer looked like humans, the way that the burned flesh stuck to everything around them; it was all just too grotesque for Nikki's liking, and brought back too many bad memories. She resented Harry and Leo for landing her with this crime scene with every step she took on the walk from her car to where the police were gathered at the front of the house, the stench of smoke getting stronger as she approached.

"Dr Nikki Alexander, forensic pathologist," she said, introducing herself to the nearest uniformed officer she could see, a young brunette woman who looked a little queasy.

"This way, Ma'am," she replied, and led Nikki to a man in a suit who was speaking to someone that Nikki assumed to be one of the firemen. The suit-wearing man was stocky and slightly balding, while his companion was tall and had dark hair with a touch of grey. Both were in their 40s and both turned as the two women approached.

"DI Johnson, this is Dr Alexander, pathologist. She's come to see the body."

Nikki nodded in thanks to the uniformed officer and said, "You'll get used to the bodies after a while," with an encouraging smile. The uniformed lady left Nikki with the Detective Inspector.

DI Johnson spoke: "Dr Alexander, hi. This is Michael Andrews, from the National Fire Protection Agency. Would you like me to show you the body?"

"Yeah, please. Fire Protection Agency? You're thinking arson then?"

Andrews glanced at Nikki. "The fire chief called us, apparently there are some unusual burn patterns he wanted me to have a look at. Haven't even been inside yet so I can't tell you any more than that."

"No time like the present, I'll show you both around the house," said DI Johnson, heading up the path, through a well-kept garden, to the front door. Nikki and the fire investigator followed him, listening as he commented on their surroundings. "Front door lock is intact, no sign of forced entry here. No broken windows at the front, but I can show you that two of the windows at the rear of the house have been smashed, both appear to have been smashed from the outside."

All three pulled on shoe covers before stepping inside, arriving in a large hallway which led to a large kitchen on the left and a living room on the right. Stairs leading upstairs were in the long hallway, towards the back of the house. Once inside, the acrid smoky smell enveloped the group, and Nikki had to fight back a cough. Andrews peered up at the ceiling through the gloom. "Smoke alarms?" he inquired.

"Already checked. No batteries," replied Johnson.

Andrews nodded, but said nothing, continuing to look around, taking in the hallway.

Johnson continued: "The firefighters who initially attended to fight the blaze are divided about where the fire started. Some are convinced that it began in here, perhaps by something alight that was posted through the letter box…" he paused and pointed to the blackened floor beneath Nikki's feet. "Other's think, from the damage upstairs, that it started up there. Shall we?" He indicated the stairs and started up them with heavy footsteps.

"The stairs are structurally sound?" Andrews asked, sharply.

"Yes, they've been checked, it's okay to head upstairs."

Nikki and Andrews glanced at each other, before following him, making sure to tread a little lighter than he did. Once on the top floor, the two followed Johnson's outstretched arm to a bedroom at the rear of the house.

"The body is in the bedroom here, where most of the damage occurred. Broken windows here, seem to have been broken from the outside but we should wait and see if the boys from forensics have anything to say about them. Not much to see otherwise, on this level. Apart from the body of course. Can't even tell if it's a he or a she, the poor thing."

Nikki took this as her cue to turn her attention to the body in question, if you could call it that, seen as it was barely recognisable as such. The face was almost obliterated and the skin over the entire body was black, aside from a couple of areas where fabric was stuck to the charred flesh, a grotesque contrast to the blackness surrounding it. It truly was a thing more suited to someone's worst nightmares.

"Not sure how much I can do for you while I am here, Detective. Will have better luck when I get him back to the lab and can do a full post mortem, although the cause of death may already be apparent. I'm assuming there's no ID yet?"

"Not yet. Registered occupants are a David and Melanie Cooper but if this is one of them, where is the other one?" He paused as if mulling the thought over in his mind. "Right, Dr Alexander, I'm going to show Mr Andrews more of the damage downstairs, can I leave you to it?"

"Of course, I will come and let you know when I am ready to move the body."

"Excellent. If you'll follow me, Mr Andrews."

Nikki glanced over her shoulder as the two men left and continued to look around downstairs, before turning her attention back to the body. In truth, there was very little she could do while still in the crime scene. She paused for a few moments, just looking at the body. Getting used to it, acclimatising herself to the figure that lay before her. It lay on, what Nikki presumed to be, the remains of a double bed. _I hope they slept through all of this,_ Nikki mused to herself _._ Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs. Nikki turned, expecting to see the DI or the fire investigator returning, but was instead met with an unfamiliar face.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The intruder didn't respond as first, just stared at the remains, until Nikki stood closer to him, getting between him and the body. The man was fairly tall and slender, with unkempt brown hair and an unshaven face.

"You can't be up here, you need to leave now! This is a crime scene!"

"I'm sorry," the man stammered. "I just wanted to see her…"

"Sir, I'm really sorry, you have to leave now." Nikki made to guide him downstairs when the man started to cry.

"Why can't I see her? I love her, god dammit!"

"Sir, if that is the case, I am truly sorry, I really am. But I'm still going to have to get you to head outside because you are stopping us from finding out what happened here last night. Okay?"

She took him by the elbow and led him downstairs, tears still falling on his cheeks. "Now," she continued when they reached the front door, pointing at the police officers standing along the road. "If you go and talk to one of those officers in uniform, they will be able to talk to you about what happened today and perhaps talk to you about why you've come inside the building."

"I loved her, I really did!"

"I'm sure you did sir, but please, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

The man looked at Nikki intently as she spoke, as if seeing her for the first time, and appeared to pull himself together a little. As if seeing Nikki had changed his focus completely.

"Yes," he said, staring into her eyes. "Yes, okay. I will go now."

"Okay sir, go and talk to one of those officers, they will be able to help you. Don't come in to the building, okay? It isn't safe and it could get in the way of the investigation."

He nodded, still gazing at Nikki, glancing over his shoulder at her and hanging on her every word. He eventually headed out of the door, which Nikki shut behind him. At the same time, the two men also in the house came back into the hallway.

"Everything alright, Dr Alexander?" DI Johnson asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just some man came wandering in, contaminating the crime scene."

"Damn!" exclaimed the detective. "Did you send him to one of my officers outside?"

"Yes, I'll expect they will invite him to the station to be interviewed?"

"Most likely. Did he seem suspicious?"

"Perhaps," mused Nikki. "I guess we'll know more once he's been interviewed. He might have been a relative of the victim. He seemed quite distraught initially."

"Indeed. I'll leave you both too it then? How long before you're ready to move the body, Doctor?"

"Now would be fine, nothing I can do here."

"Fine, I'll send someone to help you with that in a few moments, and we can get you on your way."

The detective stepped outside, closing the door behind him and leaving Nikki standing in the gloom with the fire investigator.

"What do you think, Mr Andrews? Arson? Electrical?" she asked, to fill the silence.

"Thinking of changing careers, Dr Alexander? And please, call me Mike." He awarded her a wide grin.

"Merely academic curiosity, I can assure you. To tell you the truth, I hate this type of crime scene."

"Perhaps best to stick to medical examination? I don't know if I could do your job either, seeing all those dead bodies cut up, organs everywhere…" He physically shuddered a little. "Anyway. Moving on, let me show you what I think has happened. Don't take my word for it though, I can't give you any facts until 'the forensics boys', as our colleague referred to them, have done their job. Merely conjecture at this point."

"Of course," Nikki nodded.

"So, here, Dr Alexander," he said, pointing at the floor by the front door, "is what we call the 'seat of the fire', basically where the fire started. This is where the fire burned longest and hottest. You see these 'V' shaped smoke marks on the walls? They characteristically point to the seat of the fire. The origin. You with me so far?"

Mike looked at Nikki, making sure she was following. She nodded, looking interested, so he continued.

"Next, if I show you through here," he said, pointing to the living room with one hand, and placing the other on the small of Nikki's back, guiding her through the wreckage on the floor. "You can tell me what you see."

The rear of the living room was severely damaged in the fire, with what looked to have been a sofa, near the rear French windows, now almost obliterated. There were more 'V' marks, charcoal-coloured against the magnolia walls. The windows were also smashed and Nikki was glad for the fresh air that the November chill brought with it.

"So, these 'V' marks point to the seat of the fire, which is… here? This sofa? But also in the hallway by the door?" she said, describing the scene in front of her.

"Very good, what does that imply, Doctor?"

"That there are two points where the fire started. It's actually two separate fires?"

Mike smiled at her. "That's exactly what I think it means. Actually, no, I think it was three separate fires. Did you notice a similar level of damage upstairs? And these smoke marks were present too. I think there were separate fires in the living room here, in the hallway by the door, and upstairs. Suspicious, isn't it?"

"Very strange. Why would that happen?"

"I can't think of any reason other than malicious intent, if I am honest. Off the record, I think someone really wanted to make sure this place burned."

At that moment, someone else entered the house. This time though, he was familiar to Nikki as he had come to help her recover the body.

"Dr Alexander, hi," Zak, the mortuary technician greeted her.

"Hi Zak. The deceased is just upstairs, I'll be with you in just a moment."

She turned to say her goodbye to Mike. "Thank you for that lesson, it's interesting to know what others I'm working with are looking for."

"Likewise. How are you going to identify the body? I suppose DNA won't be much good to you?"

"Dental records, most likely," replied Nikki. "Fingerprints are out of the question of course, and you're right, DNA isn't as helpful with burned remains as it is normally. I think we will assume that the deceased is one of the occupants of this house, contact whichever dentist they attend and go from there. If that doesn't work, it is possible to reconstruct an approximation of the face from the skull, to help with identification. Hopefully it will be a simple one."

"Sure. Well, nice meeting you Dr Alexander, I'm sure you're very busy."

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I'm sure I will be seeing you."

Mike waved as Nikki headed upstairs.

"I look forward to it," Mike said, watching her as she made her way to fetch the body, sure that she didn't hear him.

It didn't take long before Nikki was ready to head back to the lab, evidence safely packaged in the back of a police van. Nikki nodded to Mike and the Detective Inspector as she left the crime scene, and smiled at the uniformed officer who had greeted her earlier. As she climbed into her car, the strange man that had entered the crime scene didn't cross her mind; she was more focussed on the idea of a warm shower, a cup of coffee, and the company that would be awaiting her at the Lyell Centre.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for reading everyone (especially my anonymous reviewer, who I sadly cannot thank personally) and I hope you enjoy this next one!_

* * *

It was late afternoon when Nikki got back to the Lyell Centre, just after 16:00. As she walked back into the office, Nikki smiled as she saw that Harry was sitting at his desk.

"Hi Harry," she greeted him, with a smile.

"Nikki," he replied. "You smell awful."

She wrinkled her nose and lifted her shirt to her face, sniffing it. "It's smoke. I was at a crime scene, a likely crime scene anyway. A house fire with one person dead, the fire department think the fire was intentional."

She perched on Harry's desk, beside his pile of paperwork and took a mouthful from the hot cup of coffee that was next to him.

"Charming!" he said, exasperated. "Hey, that god awful fire investigator wasn't there, was he? Anderson or something?"

"Andrews?" asked Nikki. "He was there, yes. I liked him though! What's wrong with him?"

"Of course _you_ liked him!" scoffed Harry with a slight laugh. "I'd be willing to bet he was all 'oh Dr Alexander, let me show you where the fire started, oh Dr Alexander, what do you think about this?'"

Nikki laughed. "He was just being nice, Harry."

"Smarmy git." Harry tried to quell the slight touch of jealousy he always felt when he knew that someone else had been flirting with Nikki.

"Oh Harry! Don't be cruel!"

"It's true though, I know what he's like Nikki. And what you're like, come to that!"

Nikki pouted a little at this: "Now that was uncalled for!"

Harry held up his hands in mock defeat and changed the subject. "Nasty way to go, a fire."

"Hmm," Nikki was thoughtful. "I always hate dealing with burned bodies. The smell and everything, it's awful."

"I agree. Speaking of which…" he replied, pointing towards the changing rooms. "The showers are that way."

She grinned, taking another sip of Harry's coffee.

"That is actually my drink. Must you steal everything that is mine?"

"I don't know why Leo and I put up with you, Harry, complaining all the time."

"It's probably my good looks, charm and intelligence. You, on the other hand, are a pest who clearly has nothing better to do than distract me."

Nikki grinned again, relinquishing Harry's coffee back to him. "If you find my company so irritating, I'll just get on with the PM now."

"Doing some work, there's an idea," said Harry, as he stood up and guided Nikki away from his desk with his hands on her shoulders. "Are we still on for a drink later?"

"Absolutely, I will need it after this! Get Leo involved as well?"

"Sure, though we will probably start without you, if you are only just starting the post mortem now."

"You are awful to me," moaned Nikki as she headed off to change.

Harry watched her walk down the corridor to the changing rooms, before sitting back down and carrying on with the paperwork he had been doing before his favourite interruption had arrived.

-X-

A few hours later, the post mortem was complete. Nikki had inspected the body (or rather, what remained of it), looking at each organ in turn and inspecting them for any abnormalities. As with many victims from house fires, the fire had burned the skin, but was not hot enough to do too much damage to the internal organs. That said, Nikki had found out very little from the organs in question, as they appeared to be nothing more than the apparently health insides of an otherwise healthy 30-40 year old. She was able to identify the sex of the deceased from the internal organs; the ovaries, uterus and fallopian tubes were more than enough to confirm that the victim was female, and Nikki was thankful to be saved having to gain this information from painstaking skeletal analysis or from DNA evidence, which normally took quite a while.

In addition to the internal examination, Nikki focused a lot on the victim's teeth. These were be the easiest way to identify the body. She had faxed over a request to check the dental records of the woman who was registered as living at the house where the body had been found. Hoping that this would be enough to work out who had been unfortunate enough to burn to death in the fire, Nikki had then headed for a well-deserved shower.

She enjoyed the feeling of the hot water washing all the smoke and ash out of her hair, replacing the smell of fire with the smell of citrus conditioner. The heat soothed the slight ache in her shoulders that she had recently started to feel after standing over an autopsy table for hours. Her mind drifted to the evening ahead of her. She always enjoyed going out for drinks with the men she worked with; these evenings in pub tended to form most of her social life. As she stepped out of the shower, she tried to ignore the little voice in her mind that was whispering the name of one of her co-workers in particular. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy spending time with Leo, of course, but so often she found herself getting quietly excited about the prospect of spending time with Harry outside of the office. After drying herself and wrapping her damp hair with the towel, she reached for her phone, left on top of her pile of clean clothes, and felt her pulse quicken when she saw Harry's name on the screen and a text message from him.

 _Hi Niks, at the Oak Tree pub, there's a glass of red with your name on it x_

She smiled, trying and failing to not see the kiss on the end of the text.

-X-

Less than half an hour later, with all the final jobs that she could do completed, and her hair still damp from the shower, Nikki arrived at the pub and quickly found her friends. Leo and Janet were sitting together on a sofa, and Harry had claimed a nearby armchair. All three were leaning close to the large fireplace, where a pile of logs were sizzling and smoking, warming them all through.

"Hello, everyone," she said, greeting them all with a smile and sinking down onto the arm of Harry's chair, which was the only available place to sit in the crowded pub. It seemed like everyone was seeking the comfort of a warm fire and good beer on that cold November night.

"Nikki, just in time, or else we'd have to buy another bottle of wine," said Harry, pouring the remaining wine from a bottle into a clean glass. Leo, Janet and Harry were all half way through a glass.

"Looks like I have some catching up to do," Nikki said, grinning and taking a sip of the drink that she had taken from Harry.

"How are you Nikki?" asked Janet.

Nikki sighed, thinking over the day she had just had. Not her best day, dealing with one of her least favourite cases, but nothing awful had happened, really.

"I'm fine, Janet, just tired," she said with a slight smile.

"Harry said you'd picked up that fire case? What's the story?" asked Leo.

As Leo spoke, Nikki felt Harry's hand gently rub her back and was glad for the affectionate gesture.

"One body in the house, multiple origins for the fire, the fire guys think arson. I've sent dental records to the dentist that the residents of the property are registered with, if the victim is one of those, it should be pretty simple. Post mortem confirmed that the deceased is female, but nothing more than that really." She glanced around as she spoke, glad that the noise of the crowded pub gave her them some measure of privacy. They never could seem to avoid talking about the job, wherever they were.

Leo nodded and they all continued chatting, sometimes about the case, making speculations and guesses that would never leave that room. An hour or so later, all of their glasses were nearly empty, and Leo and Janet made their excuses.

"Leo will just be cranky with you two in the morning if I don't get him home for a sleep soon!" smiled Janet as Leo helped her slip her coat over her shoulders.

"Ah yes, Leo's early morning moods are well known throughout the department," said Harry before smoothly draining his glass.

"Behave yourself, both of you," said Leo, eyeing his two younger colleagues as he made to head out of the pub after his girlfriend. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Yes, bye Leo," said Nikki smiling.

Harry waved at the pair as they left, before turning all his attention to Nikki, who was still perched awkwardly on the arm of his chair.

"Let's take advantage of the sofa while we can," he said, nodding to the space that Janet and Leo had just left. The pair sat down, contentedly close together on the small seat, feeling cosy with the proximity to each other and to the fire. Harry's arm was draped along the back of the sofa and around Nikki's shoulders. For a few moments, they sat silently, before Nikki sighed.

"Gosh I'm tired, Harry," she murmured.

"You've had a long day. A new case. Of course you're tired."

She nodded slowly, sipping the last mouthfuls of her wine. "I can't even tell you how much I hate those burned bodies though. Too many bad memories. Like the worst cases I used to work in Johannesburg. Or when that helicopter crashed after the air show."

They both stared into the flames, trying to push the horrific memories from their minds.

"That can't have been easy," Harry agreed. "I tell you what. Tomorrow, I will present your post mortem report to the detective when he comes in. I assume someone will be coming in for the report? You can have a bit of a lie in. How does that sound?"

"That sounds bloody fantastic."

"You owe me one though!"

"Of course," she smiled, already feeling her spirit was a little lighter than it had been a few minutes before. "Would you like another drink? They do that whiskey you like, I think. It's on me."

It was Harry's turn to grin. "You spoil me. I'd love one."

He watched her walk away to the crowded bar, already missing the scent of lemons he thought he could smell from her hair. It was only a few moments before she was back, however, struggling with two glasses, one whiskey for Harry and another glass of wine for herself, plus a packet of peanuts for them to share. She settled quickly back into the sofa, her body pressing into Harry's side from shoulder to knee.

"That was quick," Harry commented, eying the number of people jostling for the bartender's attention.

"Just got lucky, I guess," replied Nikki, giving Harry a smirk that told him that luck had little to do with it.

"You're awful," he sighed. "One day you will find a situation that you can't charm your way through, and where will you be then? I've no idea how you've managed to stay single for so long, the way you carry on."

"I don't know what you're complaining about, I got your drink quick enough, didn't I? And as for me remaining single, it turns out that not everyone who flirts is interested. Which is obviously very unfortunate for me."

"Hmm. True enough," agreed Harry, taking a sip of the whiskey, enjoying the burn he felt as it slipped down his throat and warming him in a way that even the fire didn't.

Nikki swirled her wine in her glass, turning her face towards Harry's.

"Thanks Harry. This has been a good end to a day that wasn't too good at all."

"Any time, Nikki. I never need an excuse for a drink." _Especially when it means spending time with you._ "Or peanuts for that matter, pass some of those."

Nikki obliged, opening the packet and pouring some into Harry's outstretched hand. He immediately threw one up into the air, trying and failing to catch it in his mouth. It bounced off his chin, landing on the sofa next to him.

"That was rubbish," said Nikki, taking a peanut from his hand and neatly tossing it into her own mouth, giving Harry a smug look.

"Show off," he muttered darkly, before successfully catching one on his second attempt.

"Try this one," laughed Nikki, throwing a peanut for Harry to catch, which he did. She laughed again, and the sound was music to Harry's ears.

"Good boy," she said, patting him on the head, like a puppy, before learning back into the sofa again. Harry gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders, their faces close together. They fell into relaxed conversation, talking about people they knew from work, and other safe topics. No talk of burning, heat or fires for the rest of the evening, for which Nikki was grateful. It was almost midnight when they finally decided to call it a night, parting ways outside the pub and heading into the London night.


	3. Chapter 3

_Another update from me! Thanks again to everyone who has been reading, following, favouriting or reviewing, I really appreciate it and would love a little word to know how you are finding the story so far :) This will probably be the last update before christmas, so let me wish you a happy christmas and I hope you get to enjoy it with friends, family and loved ones._

* * *

Harry groaned as he reached for his phone, silencing the shrieking alarm that had woken him. Why did the morning after the night before seem so much worse than it had done five years ago? Come to think of it, how had three glasses of wine effectively ruined him for the next 24 hours? Worst of all, he grumbled as he pulled himself from his bed and headed for the shower, loathing every step, he had volunteered to get up early so that Nikki could sleep in. Where was the justice?

The first jet of water from the shower was icy and Harry felt goose bumps all over his body as he stepped into the spray, shivering for a few seconds and letting the cold water bring him into the day. It wasn't long before the water warmed up and Harry could wash himself, letting shampoo and shower gel run down him in thick soapy rivers. Feeling a little better when he stepped out of the shower, he dried himself, his damp hair sticking up in all directions and chose something to wear; the usual black trousers and a shirt ought to do it. A few minutes later, with a coffee in hand, his thoughts drifted again to his colleague and what she would have been doing, right at that moment. No doubt she would still be tucked in her bed, still asleep, completely oblivious to the cold and damp morning that had already started outside her bedroom window. No, she would be still covered with a thick duvet, only her hair splayed across the pillow and the soft sounds of her breathing – not quite snoring, she would insist – showing any sign that anyone was in the bed at all, rather than it just being a mound of bedding…

Harry had to force the image of a sleeping Nikki out of his mind. It wouldn't do at all to be thinking about her like that.

The weather had not improved by the time Harry had finished his coffee and headed out the door, grey sky matching his bad mood about the early morning and slight hangover, and he grumbled to himself all the way to the car. Once he started the engine, he was greeted with the sound of softly-spoken news presenter on BBC Radio 4. He wondered briefly why his radio was even set to that station in the first place – of course, he remembered that Nikki had wanted to listen to that documentary about the Roman Empire last time he drove with her – before changing the station to his preferred local pop music station. It was too early for anything that required brain power anyway.

The drive was uneventful and he listened to the news as he pulled up to the university campus – continued tension in the middle east, a fire in a listed building with three people in hospital, a local cat that had chased a fox away from the owner's garden – nothing interesting to catch his attention. After parking the car, he decided to head to a nearby café on the campus to buy breakfast and, of course, the second of many coffees he could expect to enjoy that day. _I really must get on to Leo about that coffee machine we talked about,_ he though. The instant coffee they had in the office was really not up to scratch. A few minutes later, with a bacon sandwich and coffee to-go, he entered the Lyell Centre and wasn't surprised to see Leo already there.

The two men greeted each other; "Morning Leo."

"Hi Harry. You're in early?"

"Yeah I'm going to pass Nikki's report to the detective, he should be here in another hour. I wanted to save her the early morning, she had a bit of a rough day yesterday."

"Excellent. Can you handle things here for a little while? I'm going next door, see about that research project that's going on."

"Of course. I'll call you if there are any problems."

Leo left, and Harry settled down with his sandwich, whilst casting his eyes over Nikki's report. There was nothing unexpected, from what Nikki had told him the previous day, plus her account of the post mortem was as meticulous as always. By the time his breakfast was finished, Harry was fully familiarised with the house fire case that Nikki had been working on. The victim was a female, aged in her 30s, likely cause of death was smoke inhalation, and the body was extensively damaged externally, due to the fire. From the pathologist's view, this was a fairly simple case. Fire victims always seemed to be very similar.

The idea to text Nikki to wake her up came to Harry. Grinning as he reached for his phone, he quickly typed out _"Morning Nikki, enjoy your lie in, I'm not jealous at all x"_ and hit send. Perhaps he wouldn't have to be alone in the office for too long if she woke up, he though as he turned back to the work he had come in early to do.

He was interrupted from the report by the fax machine, which came out of standby mode and started to print the incoming fax. He rolled his chair slowly towards the machine, and was pleased to see that it was from the dentist that Nikki had contacted the previous day.

"After comparing the x-ray from the deceased with the records we have on file, I can be reasonably confident in confirming that the victim is a Mrs Melanie Cooper."

So the victim of the house fire had been one of the two people who was registered to live at the address where the fire had occurred. Not entirely surprising, thought Harry. It did beg the question about where the other occupant of the house was. And why they did not seem to care that their wife was dead. Did they even know? Harry decided to make sure to ask these questions of the police when they came by to discuss the report.

It was another half hour before the detective inspector arrived, accompanied by Andrews, the fire inspector. Harry felt a sort of jealous glee when he caught sight of Andrews, suspecting that the man had only joined the detective in order to meet with Nikki again. Sure enough – after a polite greeting, the first question Andrews asked of Harry was "Where is Dr Alexander?"

"She wasn't feeling too well last night, I'm afraid, so I offered to come in for her and present her work. She did the post mortem yesterday afternoon."

"Do we have an ID on the body?" DI Johnson asked, gruffly.

"We do," Harry replied, handing over the fax that he had recently received. "The dentist that the occupants of the house are registered with just faxed this over. Dental records seem to match the x-rays taken during the post mortem, so I think we can be safe in identifying the body as Melanie Cooper."

Johnson and Andrews both nodded, Johnson looking visibly happier that a positive identification had been made.

Harry continued: "Nikki – Dr Alexander – identified the cause of death as smoke inhalation; she has noted soot and ash deposits in the lungs, as well as an increased percentage of carboxyhaemoglobin in the blood, both of which support the theory that the victim died of smoke inhalation."

Andrews nodded in understanding, but the expression on the face of the Detective Inspector prompted him to explain further.

"When there is a house fire, there is a lot of carbon monoxide gas produced. This is what kills most people in a fire. It binds to red blood cells so that oxygen cannot bind, then the blood cannot take oxygen to the tissues. This is what causes the eventual death – if oxygen is not getting to the brain, it will shut down pretty quickly."

The DI nodded this time, appearing satisfied with the short science lesson Harry had given him.

"The burns, although deep, didn't cause too much damage to the internal organs, so it can be confirmed that the victim was largely fit and well and had no health issues that contributed to her death."

"Thank you, Dr Cunningham. Could we take a copy of the report? It's very useful, especially the identification."

Harry handed it over; Nikki had, of course, already printed two copies.

"What next?" asked Harry.

"Find the husband. He is the prime suspect at this point. We are trying to use mobile phone data to see when they were last in contact and see if we can get a location from him."

"Sounds good. I was wondering where the husband was, if I am honest."

DI Johnson nodded, and stood up making to leave the office. "Pass on our thanks to Dr Alexander, this report is some good work."

"Yes," agreed Andrews. "And I hope she is feeling better soon, it was a shame she couldn't be here."

"I'm sure she will appreciate that," replied Harry tightly, resisting the urge to hit Andrews right in his smug face. Although, when the men shook hands with Harry before leaving, Harry didn't resist the urge to squeeze Andrews hand a _little_ harder than was perhaps necessary.

Soon after they left, Harry was feeling somewhat bored. At the time, Nikki's fire case was the only open case the three of them were working on – it was unusually quiet – so Harry had little to do that day. He could go over the notes for his upcoming court testimony for the _umpteenth time_ , but that case had been so simple that he didn't even know why they needed his evidence in court for a conviction. A simple drink driving incident that was being dragged through the Crown Court, rather than being settled? He shook his head a little thinking about it.

On impulse, he decided to text Nikki again, try and hurry her into the office a little quicker, to keep him company.

 _Oi sleepyhead, I am bored, requesting your presence urgently x_

He sent it quickly, hoping it didn't sound too desperate, before heading to find Leo and see if he needed any help with supervising the postgraduate research project. Hopefully, that would kill time until Nikki arrived.

However, when the two men returned to the lab over an hour later, satisfied with the progress with the research, Nikki was still not there.

"That's not like her," Leo commented, lightly.

"Hmm," agreed Harry, a slight sense of worry starting to wash over him. Leo was right; to Nikki, a late start normally meant 9am, half past at the latest. But not getting into work until midday? That was not like her at all.

Harry's phone yielded no answers, his text had not received a reply.

"I think I will ring her," he called to Leo. The older man nodded in response.

Gripping his phone tightly, he listened as a pre-recorded message informed him that the number he had called was not in service. Not in service? Trying again gave him the same result. Why would Nikki's phone be turned off? Why would anyone turn their phone off in this day and age?

"Any luck?" Leo's question interrupted Harry's thoughts.

"No, her phone is not in service," said Harry, frowning at his own phone.

"Maybe her phone ran out of battery in the night? Would explain why she's late, if her alarm didn't go off."

"Hmm, maybe." It did sound plausible to Harry's rational side, but something in his subconscious was making him worry all the same.

Leo sensed the concern in Harry's noncommittal reply.

"Look, Harry, if she's not here in half an hour, call her again, and if you still can't get hold of her, you can go to her place and see where she is. It's just a good thing we're quiet today!"

As Leo finished speaking, Harry's phone suddenly started ringing. Leo gave him a look which said "See, I told you" and retreated back to his office.

Harry answered the phone without checking the caller ID: "Nikki? Where are you?"

The answering voice was female, but it definitely wasn't Nikki.

"Erm, no. Sorry, is this Dr Harry Cunningham?"

"It is, who is speaking?" asked Harry, perplexed.

"My name is Claire Wilcox, I am one of the junior doctors at the Royal Free Hospital. I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for a Dr Nicola Alexander?"

"What's wrong with Nikki?" he demanded, his voice rising and obviously worried.

"Dr Cunningham, I think it would be best if you came to the hospital right away."


	4. Chapter 4

_Oooh bit of a cliffhanger last time! But all will soon be revealed. Thank you, as always for the lovely reviews and I hope you all have a lovely christmas!_

* * *

 _7 Hours Earlier…_

She awoke in darkness, her head a little fuzzy, and didn't know why.

Looking around and listening, she couldn't see or hear anything that could have brought her so suddenly from her unconscious state, merely the sound of the sleeping city outside the window and the quiet hum of a passing car.

After a few moments of listening to nothing, Nikki decided to get up and find something to drink. Her mouth was dry and she could still taste the tang of the wine she had drunk with Harry only a few hours before. As she stepped from the plush carpet of her bedroom into the small en-suite, she shivered; the bathroom tiles were cold on her bare feet. The light hurt her eyes, blinding in the dim, dark night. She watched herself in the mirror, still feeling uneasy about being unexpectedly awakened, and critiqued her appearance as she drunk a glass of cool water, straight from the tap. Hair untidy and unbrushed, dark shadows under her eyes, skin that was slightly sallow in the harsh glow of the bathroom light. Her slight, nagging headache wasn't helping matters, of course. Could she be feeling the beginnings of a hangover? And that after less than a bottle of wine? She reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste, a little annoyed with herself that she had forgotten to clean her teeth when she had gotten home from the pub. Climbing into her bed was just too tempting after being outside in the chill of a night in November. Scrubbing furiously at her teeth, she felt a little better. A little more like herself.

The packet of paracetamol in the bathroom cabinet caught her eye. _Might as well try and fend off the hangover as best I can,_ she thought, reaching for them and pushed two tablets from their little foil packet. If she was feeling this way, Harry would be feeling worse, and Leo would not be impressed if they were both hungover when they arrived at work. As she refilled the glass, a strange sound reached her ears. Almost indescribable, it was a kind of… whooshing sound? Or a cracking noise? She couldn't quite pinpoint it and turned to head out of the bathroom to investigate it. As she did so, a high pitched screech began to echo through the apartment, starting quite suddenly.

Nikki jumped in surprise, startled by the sudden noise, the glass slipping from her hands and smashing on the cold tiled floor.

"Bugger! What on Earth could that be?" she muttered, frustration mounting, the alarming shriek not helping her mood or her headache. She left the bathroom then, all of a sudden, she could smell the smoke, and was mentally dragged back to the crime scene she had attended earlier that day. Outside her bedroom, her flat was dark, apart from a glow coming from her kitchen. Panic rose within her as she saw the characteristic flickering of a flame. The fire was in her flat?

Her mind snapped into autopilot. All she could think was " _get out"._ Immediately, she headed to the front door of her flat, throwing it open. As she did so, she was engulfed by thick smoke, and had to close the door straight away, coughing all the while. The smoke and the fear combined to make it so hard to breathe. With a pounding heart and sweat pouring unnoticed down her face, she quickly headed to her bedroom. Something in the back of her mind was telling her to cover her face with a wet cloth so she could run down the smoke-filled stairs and get out of the building. Her discarded shirt from the day before was the first thing to hand, so she threw it into the sink, furiously turning on the taps to thoroughly soak her shirt, coughing all the while. As soon as it was completely sodden, she ran through her flat readying herself to escape from the building. This time, she was ready for the smoke that was outside her front door, and took a deep breath of fresh air, before wrapping the wet shirt around her nose and mouth.

The acrid smoke in the stairwell was black and she struggled to see as she ran down the stairs, banging on her neighbour's door as she did so. She heard someone behind her, glad to not have to run up the stairs to check on the people who lived in the flat above her own. She stumbled, her ankle twisting beneath her and she fell a few steps, landing hard, her knee hitting the stone painfully. There was no time to lick her wounds, she knew this, and besides, the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her forget the injury instantly.

By the time she reached the ground floor, the damp shirt was not enough to keep the smoke from her lungs and she was struggling to breathe. Gasping in her terror, the cloth slipped from her face and she took in a lungful of fumes and began to cough and wheeze. She suddenly felt dizzy and weak, almost collapsing to the floor. The only thing that kept her upright was the person she had heard behind her; he had caught her up and was now half-dragging, half-carrying her the final few steps to the front door and to safety. The door was ajar, presumably from others in the building who had already managed to get out. Indeed, Nikki and her rescuer saw, as soon as they stepped into the cold night, a small gathering of people across the street from the burning building.

If Nikki were fully conscious and able to think as normal, she would be probably be wondering why there was a fire in her flat, as well as a fire that filled the stairwell with smoke. She might be looking up at what had been her home and asking how what had been a small fire in her kitchen had gone on to engulf most of the building in such a short time. She would definitely be thanking all her lucky stars (as well as her upstairs neighbour) that she had made it to safety. Maybe she would be checking the group of people that surrounded her, making sure they were okay.

As it was, however, she was slipping into blackness, sleepiness taking over her as her body struggled to get oxygen to her brain, and the last thing she was aware of, before losing consciousness, was the very welcome sound of sirens approaching.


	5. Chapter 5

_Happy New Year! Hope you all had a lovely christmas and everything. Thank you for all the lovely reviews to the previous chapters. Got a long chapter for you today. Would love to hear from you because I have a big exam tomorrow and I am freaking out, so I am fanfictioning to destress! Love to you all._

* * *

Leaving his car parked haphazardly outside the hospital entrance, Harry almost ran into the emergency department. His lungs were fit to burst, almost breaking out of his chest, and that wasn't due to exertion. From the second the doctor told him over the phone to come to the hospital, he felt that he could hardly breathe. The icy cold grip of worry had a tight hold on him and wasn't going to be letting go any time soon. He could barely remember anything he had heard during the call. The doctor had mentioned a fire, but had not given Harry much information about injuries. Just asked him to come. Within seconds he had been out of the door, not even taking the time to talk to Leo in his panic.

Anxiety mounted as he arrived in the emergency department reception, and was forced to join a short queue of patients who were waiting to talk to someone at reception. Don't they understand that their broken finger and stomach pain were less important? Nikki could be in a critical position and they were describing how they had bent their finger back playing rugby?

Twitchy and nearing the edge of his patience, Harry was finally able to talk to the receptionist, giving a garbled explanation for his presence: "My name is Harry Cunningham, I'm here about Nikki. Someone called me, one of the doctors. It's about Nicola Alexander? Is she okay?"

The receptionist was obviously expecting him, as she nodded quickly and stood up, leading Harry towards a door. Behind it were two comfy sofas and a small table, upon which was a box of tissues.

He felt his heart plummet. _This is where they take you to tell you that your relative has died._ It was as if he had been doused in icy water, the shock chilling him to his bones; the idea of a world without Nikki was a very cold place indeed. He paced up and down the small room, frustration and fear taking over every mental faculty he possessed. Although it was only minutes before a doctor was brought to see him, it felt like years of waiting. The possibility that Nikki was dead was… too much.

"Dr Cunningham?" A quiet female voice interrupted his thoughts. "It's Dr Wilcox, we spoke on the phone? I'm one of the doctors that's looking after Dr Alexander."

Harry nodded, although he had no memory of who he had spoken to. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but his mouth appeared to not be working as it should. The effort of keeping his emotions in check, while there was a possibility that he might not see Nikki again, was all he could manage. He couldn't even look at the doctor, his eyes were firmly fixed on the floor.

"So, as I said on the phone, there was a fire at Dr Alexander's house last night. She escaped the fire, along with everyone else in the building, however, she did seem to come off the worst."

The doctor paused, giving Harry a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.

"When the paramedics arrived, she was confused and a little drowsy, and the bystanders said that she had been dipping in and out of consciousness since she had gotten out of the building. The paramedics were concerned that she had breathed in some of the gas from the fire, or that she had a burn in her airway that was making it hard for her to take in as much oxygen as she needed. They decided to put her to sleep properly, at the scene, so that they could put a tube down her throat, in case her airway became swollen. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded, still not trusting himself to speak. Surely they would have told him straight away, if Nikki had not survived?

"Okay. So Dr Alexander was already asleep when she arrived at the hospital. We haven't tried to wake her yet because we want to keep the tube down her throat. We are also giving her a lot of oxygen at the moment, and keeping a good eye on her lungs. And we are doing a lot of other blood tests at the moment to check a lot of things."

Frustration was mounting in Harry once more. Although it all made sense to Harry, everything the doctor had said, it didn't mean he was getting the answers he wanted.

"Can…" his voice cracked as he spoke. He cleared his throat. "Can I see her?"

"Of course," replied the doctor. "Just let me check that she is ready, and I will come back and bring you to her."

She briefly left Harry to his own thoughts. As soon as she left the room, he felt a dampness on his cheeks. Tears of relief? He certainly felt relieved. The few minutes when he had been entertaining the possibility that Nikki could have died were… indescribable. Still at a loss for what to do, he paced the room, restless and impatient for more information, to see Nikki. He wanted to scream in joy that she was alive, but also to punch a wall because she wasn't okay. Wiping the tears off his cheeks, he felt helpless.

The opening of the door startled him as the young doctor he had met previously ushered him out into the main area of the emergency department. Harry didn't see the patients around him, those that were waiting in trolleys in the hallway, in pain in the way. All he saw was the doctor, leading him towards a door marked "Resuscitation Room". He knew enough to know that this is where people who were severely injured or gravely ill were looked after. He knew too much about what could have been waiting for him behind those double doors. The doctor paused before entering, sensing his worry.

"I don't want you to be shocked," she said, turning to him. "Dr Alexander has a lot of tubes and lines on her at the moment. Plus she will be asleep and attached to a ventilator, which will be doing all the breathing for her."

Harry nodded; none of this was unexpected to him. The doctor nodded, satisfied he was as ready as he would ever be, and led him into "resus" and to the bed where Nikki lay. The noise of the many patients in the rest of the emergency department was replaced by a calmness, punctuated by a regular beep from a nearby monitor and a hiss from a ventilator. There were indeed many lines and tubes, linking machines and bags of fluid to Nikki's small, still body.

Harry had thought that he knew what to expect, but it was very different seeing someone who you were close to – someone you loved? – seemingly lifeless in a hospital bed. The first glimpse of her felt like a punch in the gut and Harry felt a lump in his throat, knew he was about to well up.

"I will give you a moment," said the doctor, seeing Harry's emotions threaten to spill over.

As she left, Harry pulled a plastic chair alongside Nikki's bed and sat down, reaching for her hand and holding it tightly, briefly wondering why her other hand had been bandaged. As he intertwined their fingers, carefully so to avoid disturbing the line in the back of her hand, he felt a harsh sob escape him.

"Oh god Niks, I wish you were awake to tell me off for being such a soppy git, crying over you," he whispered.

There was no response, of course. Only the wheezy hiss of the ventilator.

She looked so fragile, so small when surrounded by all the hospital equipment, so tiny compared to her normal self.

A few minutes passed, no thoughts passing through Harry's head other than to keep his breathing in time with the ventilator that was keeping Nikki alive. It seemed to calm him, until he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. The doctor had returned, this time with another, a man who appeared to be the senior doctor in the department.

"Hi, Dr Cunningham. I'm David Hughes, one of the consultants in the emergency department. I've been looking after Dr Alexander since she was brought in this morning. How are you holding up?"

Harry almost laughed. How did it look like he was "holding up"?

The doctor nodded, and brought another chair over, so he could sit with Harry.

"Let me bring you up to speed. There was a fire in Dr Alexander's flat last night, and although she managed to escape fairly quickly, she also managed to breathe in a lot of smoke. We were worried about whether her airway would stay open, because burns to the airway can cause the airway to swell and even close up. This is why we put a tube down, in case her airway became swollen and we wouldn't be able to put a tube down later. It was just a precaution. However, to put the tube down, we had to put her to sleep, which meant having to put a cannula in her veins and hook her to all these monitors."

He paused and Harry nodded, as most of the information had already been given to him by the junior doctor he had already spoken with.

The consultant continued: "The good news is that her chest x-ray looks clear. Her blood gases are good, she is carrying oxygen around her body as normal. Other than that, she only has minor injuries. A mild burn on her hand and a sprained ankle, a few cuts and bruises. Other than her airway, we have very little to be concerned about."

Harry looked at the doctor in disbelief, tearing his eyes away from Nikki's face for a moment. It all seemed too good to be true, didn't it? One moment, Nikki was being torn away from him, so he thought, then the next she was perfectly healthy? It didn't seem right. There must be something else.

"I can see that you are still worried," Dr Hughes said, kindly, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder as he stood up. "I want to reassure you that she's doing very well. I suspect we will be able to wake her up tomorrow."

Relief washed over him, a cool shower on a hot day, as he turned back to Nikki's sleeping form. They were alone again.

-X-

A little while later, the nurses asked Harry to step outside; they wanted to take Nikki to the intensive care unit, they said. They needed the bed in the resuscitation area, and the intensive care unit was the only place they could look after a patient who was sedated and had a tube in her throat. Nothing to worry about, they reassured him, but they needed him to give them space to move her, but they would let him back in with her as soon as the move was completed.

Harry wandered aimlessly along an unfamiliar corridor. His feet took him to one of those little cafes you always see in hospitals; they're always raising money for a charity and they're always run by sweet little old ladies. Almost without realising it, as if he was on autopilot, Harry found himself buying a coffee from one of these ladies and moments later, he was sitting down with a hot drink in hand. He was drinking it without milk, which he didn't even like, but he seemed to have lost the ability to do anything other than sit. It was almost too much for him to get the cup to his mouth without spilling, his hands were shaking that much. Everything that had happened in the last two hours, since his phone had rung while still at work, the enormity of it all, was overwhelming. He had been feeling so many emotions, and now was feeling nothing. Just the slight burn of scalding black coffee on his tongue… and his phone vibrating in his pocket?

He took the device out and stared at it, as if it were something completely unfamiliar, rather than his own phone. The name _Leo_ flashed on the screen, with the number nine in brackets beside it. Nine missed calls? He hadn't registered the phone ringing, he supposed.

When the phone rang again, only two minutes later, Harry started to come to his senses. Of course Leo was ringing him! Nikki hadn't come to work and then Harry had disappeared too, with no explanation.

"Leo," began Harry, as he tapped the 'answer' button on the screen.

"Harry! Where the bloody hell are you? And where is Nikki? She still isn't here and you've gone AWOL somewhere-"

"Leo, Nikki's in hospital."

"How am I supposed to run a department with the pair of you nowhere to be seen?"

Harry had to raise his voice a little, drawing looks from others who were at the nearby tables in the hospital café. "Leo! She's in hospital! Nikki is in hospital. That's where I am."

For a while, there was only stunned silence from the other end of the phone. Then: "What do you mean, hospital? Is she alright?"

Harry took a gulp of coffee to steady him, readying himself to say the words out loud, to describe the nightmare that Nikki had been through.

"There was a fire at her flat. Last night. She's okay though, I think. The doctors are keeping her asleep in case her airway swells, Leo."

Harry felt his voice start to break down a little as he spoke. Short sentences. Speak quickly. Get the words out and keep it together.

"Oh god, Harry. That's… are you alright? Why did they call you?"

"I'm… I'm alright now. I didn't know I was Nikki's emergency contact."

In any other situation, that piece of information would have delighted Harry.

"Right. Stay at the hospital, Harry, I'm coming to see you both. Half an hour."

The older man hung up the phone before Harry even realised.

-X-

It was lucky that the café that Harry had wandered to was inside the main foyer of the hospital, because he was still sitting there when Leo arrived, staring at half a cup of now-cold coffee. Leo, somehow, knew that Harry would not have moved since the phone call ended.

"Harry," he said simply, drawing Harry out of his reverie.

It wasn't long before the two were being shown to the hospital's intensive care unit, a ward where each patient was asleep and surrounded by a myriad of medical equipment. Monitors beeped in the otherwise eerie quiet and everyone spoke in hushed tones. Even for those used to hospitals, it was a strange place to be and Harry couldn't help feel a chill as he followed a nurse to Nikki's muted bedside.

Other than the quiet though, it was much like the scene in the emergency department. Nikki was just _lying there._ She wasn't awake, couldn't talk, not able to move. Helplessness still clung to Harry as he watched her, unable to look elsewhere. He registered, but didn't take much notice of Leo speaking with the doctor, a different doctor again from the two he had already spoken to in the emergency department. Had he been thinking about it, he'd be glad that someone was there to explain to Leo what was going on. Harry didn't think he could get the words out.

"Harry," Leo murmured, sometime later.

Harry tore his eyes away from Nikki to look at his boss.

"She's going to be okay, Harry. She really is."

"I know," croaked Harry in reply. His voice sounded as if he hadn't spoken in days. "I just don't know if I'll believe it until she's awake." He paused and looked back at Nikki, as if to reassure himself she was still there, before turning back to Leo. "I thought she was dead and I just… I can't move past that until I talk to her. I just need her to wake up."

Feeling tears coming dangerously close to spilling over again, Harry looked away from Leo, not wanting to cry in front of a colleague. It was bad enough crying in front of Nikki, but letting Leo see? That couldn't happen. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

Leo nodded. He was being shown again how deeply his colleagues felt about each other and exactly why, the usually stoic, Harry was so badly affected by this.

Glancing around in the cold, near-silent room, he was pleased to see that all of the vital signs on the surrounding monitors looked good. It seemed that the doctors were right and that Nikki would be well enough to go home soon. How to get Harry to see that fact was another matter.

They sat for nearly an hour, Harry making no sounds, or even moving. Leo made intermittent conversation with the nurse who was looking after Nikki, a pleasant, dumpy woman called Pam.

"They'll probably wake her up tomorrow. That's what the doctors say. Assuming her chest x-ray is normal and everything. But as far as I understand, it's all looking good for Miss Alexander at the moment," she chattered good-naturedly to Leo. "I'd say she'll be awake for lunch tomorrow, you'll see."

"Thank you," replied Leo, giving her a smile. "It's good to hear such good news. We were both worried." Leo nodded to Harry's seated form as he spoke.

"Are you related?" Pam asked Leo.

"No, nothing like that. We all work together," he explained.

Pam looked surprised. "I just thought, given how worried you were, especially…" she nodded her head towards Harry.

"We're all very close," Leo said. A poor explanation, but how else to describe the relationship the three of them had? Each one of them looked to their colleagues for things that their respective families wouldn't or couldn't give them. And Harry and Nikki? Between them was a whole other story.

It was dark outside when Pam's shift finished. Before leaving, she decided to strongly encourage both men to leave as well. Especially the dark haired younger gentleman – he would need his rest. Despite what she had been told, she could see that there was a lot more to his relationship with Miss Alexander than what was just between colleagues. She knew that when they woke Miss Alexander up, they would want someone close to her who could calm her down as the effects of the anaesthetic wore off.

"Come on Harry, we should go home. There's nothing we can do here."

Pam nodded, agreeing with the older of the two men.

Wearily, the younger gentleman, Harry, stood, gave Miss Alexander's hand a final squeeze, and kissed her gently on the forehead, having to dodge the wires and tubes that were still in place.

Pam gave him a small smile as he walked away from the bed. "They'll look after her," she said, encouragingly. "Then I will be here in the morning. And when the doctors think she's ready to wake up, I'll be there too. Okay?" He didn't return her smile, but did nod in response.

"You'll be the first to know if anything happens," she continued. "We have your numbers and everything." He nodded again, and walked away.

"I think he's still in shock," the older man told Pam.

"Yes," she agreed. "It's understandable. It's not easy. Will I see you tomorrow as well?"

"Probably not. With these two out of action, I'll have to hold the fort at work. But I really appreciate what you're doing. Nikki means a lot to me – to both of us."

Pam accepted the offered handshake before watching the two men walk away. She was just glad that, this time, her patient was likely to survive. She wouldn't have to break these two men's hearts like she did with so many other relatives she met on her job.

Pam was glad for small mercies.


	6. Chapter 6

_In celebration of my exams being finished, another chapter for you all!_

* * *

The next morning, Leo arrived at the Lyell Centre earlier than normal. With one of his colleagues in hospital and the other… well, he knew that Harry would be distracted, at the very least, for the foreseeable future, he knew that a lot of the work would fall on him. Not that he blamed the pair of them, of course. The fire in Nikki's flat couldn't be helped. Thinking about it, Leo could barely believe it had happened. And what a coincidence, with Nikki having worked that case involving the fire earlier in the week…

The thought was pushed from Leo's brain by the sight of Harry sitting in the office, looking exhausted and staring at the computer screen, barely seeming to know what he was looking at.

"Harry, I didn't expect you to be here," said Leo, breaking the younger man's reverie.

"I couldn't stay at home and I can't go to the hospital. I just can't, so here I am," Harry replied, wearily.

"Have you slept?" asked Leo.

"A few hours, maybe," said Harry, with a shrug. He didn't meet Leo's eyes, making him suspect that Harry was not telling the truth. He didn't press the matter, however and changed the subject.

"It's a good thing we aren't too busy with open cases, for the moment. Just Nikki's fire case, which I will take over, and your car crash, which is in court soon, isn't it?"

"Yes, tomorrow," confirmed Harry. He had been going over the notes on that case before Leo had arrived.

Leo nodded and continued. "Other than that, Harry, you can have a few days off work. You'll be useless here if all you are doing is worrying about Nikki. Your job is making sure she is okay."

The two men looked at each other, wordlessly sharing their mutual concern for their friend.

"You looked over Nikki's case yesterday, care to fill me in on the details while I make us a coffee?" As Leo spoke, he eyed the two used mugs that sat on Harry's desk and guessing that he would welcome yet more caffeine.

A few moments later, each clutching steaming mugs, Harry talked Leo through the report that Nikki had written about the post mortem she had performed, and the discussion he had had with the detective and the fire officer the day before, explaining the lines of enquiry the police would be taking. Leo listened intently, but didn't miss Harry's face crumple a little when he described the cause of death of the unfortunate woman who had perished. He just knew that Nikki, still asleep in the hospital bed, would be filling Harry's head, and his mind would be drifting to how much worse things could have been. He had seen the fear in Harry's eyes the previous day.

Once all the details of the case had been explained, the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, both finishing off their drinks.

Suddenly, the sound of a ringing phone cut through the quiet, and Harry, identifying that it was his, stepped out of Leo's office to answer it.

"Dr Cunningham," he said, gruffly.

"Hello Dr Cunningham, it's one of the doctors from the intensive care unit. We are ready to wake Dr Alexander up and I think it would be useful if she had someone familiar here, it's quite distressing being awoken from an anaesthetic– "

"I'm on my way," Harry interrupted, hanging up the phone and immediately grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

"Leo," he called into the adjacent room. "They want to wake her up, I have to go."

"Go, look after her," Leo called in reply.

Harry, however, was already out of the door and didn't hear him.

-X-

For the second time in two days, Harry drove to the hospital as if on autopilot, barely aware of the roads or traffic. He'd been that way since the previous day, since he had left Nikki's side. While he was beside her, he was filled to the brim with worry, there was no room for any other emotion. When he left her though, it was as if he had used up all of his ability to feel anything. He could carry out basic functions, showering, cleaning teeth, driving, but with so little awareness or interest in what he was doing that he was a wonder he didn't crash the car.

He arrived, by some miracle, without incident at the hospital. As he crossed the now-familiar car park, Leo's words were echoing in his head – _"look after her"_ – and he knew he had to pull himself together. Nikki was the priority. Not his feelings, not the fear he had felt (and still felt), nor the sadness that hit him when he saw her looking so small in her hospital bed. Certainly not the affection – and love? – that he had felt for her for more years than he wanted to admit, that this whole affair seemed to have made even more acute.

No. None of those things were important. The only thing that he could focus on for the next few days and weeks was making sure that Nikki was completely okay.

It was with this thought that he readied himself for the sight of Nikki's sleeping form, and the upcoming trauma of waking her up.

When he arrived at the intensive care unit, he found a number of doctors and nurses milling around, and quickly spotted the familiar woman from the day before. Pam, he remembered, managing to give her a half smile of recognition.

"Hello Dr Cunningham," she greeted brightly. "Nikki is looking well this morning, everything is going to plan. I think the doctors will be ready to wake her up in a few minutes. Would you like to come and be with her?"

He nodded, forcing his emotions deep inside himself, and followed the nurse.

"I'll be with you momentarily," Pam said, as they entered Nikki's room. "I'll let the doctors know you are here."

Harry nodded again and sat down in the plastic chair he had claimed the previous day.

Nikki's fingers were cold as he intertwined their hands. She looked no better than yesterday.

"Not long now, Nikki. Not long and then you'll be awake and you'll be alright."

Speaking to Nikki, the words came much easier than they had when he was speaking to Leo or Pam. The lump in his throat seemed to have eased and he felt that he sounded more like himself. He barely had a moment to make himself comfortable, before Pam returned, followed by two doctors.

They introduced themselves and one of them began explaining what was about to happen.

"First, we will stop the anaesthetic, then we will give Dr Alexander a drug that will reverse her paralysis. It shouldn't be long after that until she starts to breathe for herself. After that, she will start to protect her own airway, which is where you come in." The doctor nodded to Harry. "Having a tube in your throat is pretty distressing when you regain consciousness, so we want you to talk to her. It will help for her to have a familiar voice. When she starts coughing, we'll know that she's ready for the tube to come out. After that, things are a bit less certain. She might still be groggy, or she might wake up fairly quickly. Whatever happens, she will be scared. It's a common problem when being woken up after a long period of anaesthesia. She might have some memories that she thinks happened while she was asleep, or she might panic. We will have to see, but I want you to be ready."

Harry nodded. He felt surprisingly calm. It helped him to have a clear task that would benefit Nikki's state of mind as she was woken, helped him to focus.

The doctors spoke between themselves a little, before arranging themselves and their equipment. One doctor, who appeared to have medicine to administer, stood on the side of the bed opposite Harry, taking Nikki's hand like Harry did. The doctor was focused on the cannula that was still inserted in the back of her hand.

The other doctor stood at the head of the bed and was busying himself with the machines that had been continually providing the drugs that kept Nikki asleep. Alarms began to beep as the medicines were disconnected, but the doctor was not concerned, switching them off with no urgency. Once that had been completed, the injection of the reversal drug took place.

"It's just a waiting game now," the doctor standing at the head of the bed reassured Harry when he didn't immediately see a change in Nikki. "Everyone wakes up at their own pace."

Pam put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "You can talk to her as soon as you feel ready, she'll be able to hear you soon."

It was a few minutes before the rise and fall of her chest showed any change, and another minute before she started coughing, but all of a sudden, everything seemed to happen. As soon as she coughed, Harry felt the hand that he was holding start to grip him in return.

"Wake up Nikki," he urged out loud. "Everything is okay. I'm here, you just need to wake up."

Seconds later, Nikki's other hand came up to her neck and she started coughing and choking in earnest. The sound was awful and it was all Harry could do to keep talking and not panic himself.

"Not long now, you're doing great Nikki."

The doctor at the head of the bed was ready straight away. It was clear she wanted the tube out and the doctor responded, pulling the tube out of her mouth in one smooth, practised movement. As soon as the tube was out and her throat was clear, Nikki took a deep breath and coughed again. On her second breath, she opened her eyes, and a hoarse wail escaped her throat. She began to thrash around, pushing away the doctor, and tried to pull herself free of Harry's grasp. Any attempt to put an oxygen mask on her face was unsuccessful.

Harry held on to her hand tighter, seeing her panic as she glanced around the room, scared and confused, and leaned closer to her, so she could see him clearly.

"Nikki, it's Harry. You're okay. Take some deep breaths darling, everything is fine."

He found it hard to believe that the calm, assertive, almost stern voice was his own. He didn't feel especially assertive or stern.

As he spoke, Nikki stopped struggling so much and let the doctor slip an oxygen mask over her head. She was breathing fast, her chest moving as if she had just run a mile, and her eyes were wide and still darting this way and that, trying to make sense of the world around her. The cries reduced to a soft whimper and then stopped as the oxygen flooded her lungs and her eyes fell on Harry properly.

"Nikki, you're safe. You're in hospital but you are okay," Harry reassured her, his face inches from hers.

"Harry," she whispered. Her voice was raspy and dry, quiet from the sore throat that the tube had given her.

"You're okay," he whispered back, relief washing over him, finally believing the words he was saying. "You're okay." He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers, as he had done so many times while she was asleep. He did it unselfconsciously, despite the glances from the doctors and nurse in the room.

Nikki's grip on his hand grew stronger, and he felt her tugging him towards her. Without hesitation, he let go of her hand to he could drop the rail at the side of her bed, so he could sit beside her and wrap his arms around her, like they had done so many times before.

Harry felt himself smile as Nikki clung to him, head pressed to his chest and tucked under his chin. He kept murmuring the words "you're okay", reassuring himself and Nikki that it was true, before placing a kiss on the top of her head gently. He hadn't noticed when the doctors had left, taking Pam with them, but was glad for the few moments of privacy this had given them.

Feeling dampness on his shirt, Harry pulled himself away from Nikki, though he could hardly bear to do so, and tilted her face up to his with a fingertip under her chin. He found himself unsurprised to see Nikki's eyes cloudy with tears.

"Don't worry, you are safe now."

When the doctors returned, they found Harry still wrapped around Nikki, holding her tightly to him, doing all he could to comfort and soothe her worried mind.


	7. Chapter 7

_Just a little bonus chapter for everyone who loves Pam! Especially hushedgreylily who is definitely Pam's biggest fan!_

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All she knew was terror, at first. The feeling of something blocking her throat, choking her and stopping her breathing. A sensation all too familiar, even in the strange environment. Nikki barely had time to take in the worried faces of doctors and nurses around her before she was pulled into Harry's arms. She pressed herself to him, and let herself be soothed by his words. If Harry was there, whatever had happened, surely it would be okay?

"Don't worry, you are safe now," Harry murmured, soothing Nikki's breathing back to normal. Still the tears fell, as she tried to piece together how she had ended up in hospital. There had been a fire, a charred body, a bottle of wine in a cosy pub, an autopsy, a shattered glass… all of the pictures in her mind were in a jumbled order and she couldn't quite piece together what had happened. Confusion hit her hard. Had there really been a fire? Is that why she found herself in a hospital bed? How long had she been comatose? Hours or days? Or even weeks? She needed answers.

"Harry, what happened?" Her voice was hoarse and speaking was painful.

Reluctantly, Harry broke the news. "There was a fire Nikki, in your flat. You breathed in a fair amount of smoke so they brought you to hospital."

Closely, Harry scrutinised her face, looking for any reaction to his words. She didn't obviously crumple, there were no more tears than there had already been, and her lip barely shook.

"When did this happen?"

"The night before last. You went to a crime scene on Saturday, then we went to the pub. The fire was that night."

It made sense to Nikki, everything she thought she remembered was falling into place, snippets of memory being filled in with Harry's help.

"So, I've been in hospital for a day and a half? Asleep all of that time?"

She watched Harry nod, his expression grave.

"Yes, asleep the whole time. The doctors were worried about damage to your airway because of the fire, they wanted to keep the tube in place. Otherwise, your blood results and your chest x-rays have been fine, as far as I know."

Nikki dropped her head back against Harry's chest, as she struggled to take in everything she had been told. It was just too easy to lean into him, let him hold her tightly, rather than process everything that had happened. The two of them squashed together on the hospital bed, Harry mindful of the few lines and tubes that were still attached to Nikki. She closed her eyes and focussed on the positives. _I'm still alive. Harry is here and I am going to be okay._

Harry too was feeling more optimistic than he had in days. He was overwhelmingly relieved that Nikki was awake, and so glad that she was letting him hold her, so he could be comforted by her physical presence, as well as comforting her.

Their silence was interrupted by the arrival of a doctor and a nurse, neither of which were familiar to Nikki. Harry recognised both of them; the doctor had been standing by Nikki's head when she was awoken from the anaesthetic, and the nurse was Pam, who had spoken to him earlier on that day. Harry hadn't noticed when the doctors and nurses had left the room after waking Nikki, but was glad for a few moments with her.

"Could we have a few moments?" the doctor asked politely, looking at Harry. "We need to check you over, Miss Alexander."

"Of course," Harry obliged, reluctantly letting go of Nikki and standing up from the bed. "I'll be just outside, Nikki."

As soon as he left the room, the doctor descended on her with a stethoscope, checking her lungs and heart, while feeling her pulse and encouraging her to take deep breaths.

Pam took her hand, talking to her throughout the examination.

"I trust your young man told you about what happened, before you came to hospital? Awful business, that. But it's wonderful you are looking so well so quickly. You're a strong one."

Nikki said nothing, suspecting that Pam didn't need any reply from her. The doctor soon finished checking her over.

"I'm happy for you to leave the hospital today, Miss Alexander, if that's what you want. If there's someone to keep an eye on you that is?"

"I suppose, I could go home with Harry," said Nikki, hoping she wasn't committing her colleague to something he wouldn't offer to do. She missed the knowing grin that flitted across Pam's face as she was adjusting the monitor to the side of Nikki's bed.

"Excellent. I will sort out everything for your discharge now, and Pam will start getting rid of a few of these lines and wires. You should be on your way be the end of the day. We can give you the contact details for this ward; if anything happens I want you to come straight back. Especially if you struggle to breathe at any point. And can I just say, Miss Alexander, it is a pleasure to be able to send a patient home. I am so glad that you have recovered so fast."

Nikki was left pondering how unwell everyone else must be for everyone to be saying that to her, but Pam interrupted her thoughts when she began removing one of the lines that ran in the back of her hands.

"Harry was very worried about you," Pam mused, innocently. "Ever so worried before you woke up. It's hard to believe, looking at the two of you, that you aren't a couple."

"We are just close friends," murmured Nikki, neither willing nor able to explain the true extent of their relationship. How could you describe the messy near-misses, the undeniable intimacy, and the painful jealousy of imagining the other with someone else? Suddenly, Nikki winced at the sharp pain of removing the line from her vein.

"Sorry about that dear. Thought it best if I got that out while you were distracted thinking about something else as it does tend to sting."

A plaster was quickly placed on the back of her hand to staunch any bleeding, then Pam peeled the heart monitors off Nikki's chest, disconnecting them from the screen and silencing its alarm. Within minutes, Nikki was almost free of all the physical ties to the hospital, aside from an oxygen monitor clipped to her finger.

When Harry walked back in, Nikki was sitting up, already looking much more like herself and much less like a critical patient.

"I hear they're letting you out today?" he asked, with a grin, to which Nikki replied with a genuine smile of her own.


	8. Chapter 8

_Ok guys and gals. Another big chapter, plus this one is my favourite I've written so far! It was the first one I wrote and it holds a special place in my heart. Would love to know what you think :)_

* * *

"Here we are, ready to go," announced Harry as he arrived at Nikki's hospital bed with a wheelchair.

"Oh Harry, this isn't necessary, I'm okay, honestly."

Neither Harry nor Pam, the nurse, who had just arrived at the bedside with a small stack of paperwork for Nikki to sign, were convinced by her insistence.

"You have to be careful now Dr Alexander, just because you're going home doesn't mean you're back to normal! You need looking after! Doctors' orders!" said Pam breezily.

Harry nodded to the nurse who disappeared again, satisfied, as Nikki settled down in the wheelchair, still somewhat disgruntled.

"See?" said Harry, triumphant. "Doctors' orders!"

"I know, I know," she sighed, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. "It just feel strange to be waited on and wrapped up in cotton wool. I'm not sure if I like it."

Harry grinned as he started to pull her along on the wheelchair. "You had better get used to it, you're going to be extremely well cared for as long as you're staying with me. I won't let it be said that Harry Cunningham doesn't take care of all his lady guests!"

She didn't reply, not in the mood for their usual light humour. As the pair left the hospital into the cold November air, Nikki shivered.

"You're cold?" Harry noticed quickly.

"Yes. But it's nice. It was too stuffy in there. I don't really want to be too warm at the moment."

"Of course."

There was a silence as they crossed the car park to Harry's car. Harry came around to the front of the wheelchair to open the car door and to help Nikki stand; she, of course, was unimpressed.

"I mean it Nikki. I am going to look after you. And you can roll your eyes and tut at me all you want, but right now nothing could stop me making sure are okay."

"I know, Harry. I know."

She gives him one of those damp, sad smiles as she shuts the car door.

-X-

A short drive later, the pair unlocked Harry's front door, while Nikki was feeling conspicuous wearing spare hospital scrubs in the outside world. She took a final breath of cold night air before stepping into the warm hallway.

"So… I don't really have anything ready for you Nik, no food and the bed isn't set up yet or anything…"

She had to push aside the slight pang in her chest when he spoke, implying that they would not be sleeping in the same bed – _is that presumptuous? -_ and shook her head. "Oh Harry, I would never expect you to – and how could you manage to organise anything; you've not left me all day. I don't care about food and I can make the bed for myself. You have done so much and I'm so grateful, honestly."

Harry squeezed her arm gently, enjoying her gratitude and the fact that it was he who was able to be there for her in her time of need. "It's nothing. I'm glad to do it because I'm just so glad you're safe. Just thinking about what happened, what could have happened…" Her face clouded with fear as he trailed off. He cleared his throat and continued with a safer topic. "Shall I order some food? Then I'll find you something to wear?"

"Yes, that would be nice." She forced a small smile that only reached her mouth.

"I'll follow you upstairs. Is Chinese okay?"

Harry was already reaching for his phone in his pocket as Nikki turned to head up the stairs, making her way to get some clean bedding for the spare bedroom. As usual, the bed in Harry's spare bed was not made up, and was piled high with books and a couple of boxes; Nikki made quick work of clearing the bed and numbly began placing the duvet and pillowcases. She was going through the motions, unthinking, refusing to feel the cool sheets, the carpet below her feet, the pounding in her chest, the thoughts swirling in her head.

"I brought you these," said Harry, breaking through to her consciousness. He was holding a pair of shorts in soft flannel, and a t-shirt that would never come near to fitting Nikki, and a pair of boxers. "I thought you'd left some of your clothes here before, but I couldn't find them. Hope these will do, until we can get something better tomorrow?"

"Thanks. Anything is better than these scrubs, right?" she replied, with a forced smile.

"I think they are quite becoming on you!" He leant down to kiss her temple, smelling the smoke that still lingered in her hair, a painful reminder of the real reason she was there. "I've ordered Chinese, should be about 20 minutes, okay?"

Only a nod in reply, and she didn't meet his eyes. Where was the smile, the wit, the laugh, the fun that Harry knew so well? He hated to see her like this, so crushed, a small shell of her normal self.

"Oh Nikki. What do you need? What might help you feel better?"

She looked up but said nothing.

"Wine? Quiet? Being left alone? Talking about it? Crap TV? Whatever will help. I can't just stand by while you're hurting."

Suddenly, she snapped. "Is there anything that will help though, Harry? I'm scared! No, I'm terrified! Every second, I expect an alarm to go off, smoke to seep into the room. Everything I touch, I flinch because I think it'll burn. I don't know if I have any possessions other than the clothes I'm wearing – and they don't even match! Do I have a home? What about an insurance claim? Why did the fire start in the first place? I feel totally overwhelmed! Worst of all, if I shut my eyes, all I will see is that poor dead woman we saw yesterday. Except… the woman is me."

She was breathing quickly, heavily, and Harry could see she was close to tears. He pulled her to the bed and sat down, gathering her into his arms. The tears came in sobs that shook her whole body, as he knew they would, so he stroked her hair and murmured gentle comforts. As Nikki had pointed out, any small step to make her feel better would be drowned out by the catastrophic day she had, and the many bad days she would have in dealing with the aftermath. Harry would, of course, be there for her however she needed him.

After a few minutes, Nikki's breathing slowed and she sat upright, loosening Harry's grip on her a little. "Sorry Harry, I don't know what came over me, I just… sorry."

"No, I should apologise. I should have realised I can't fix this with a TV dinner and a couple of quick jokes."

"Don't worry, it's not your fault." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and managed to give Harry the smallest of genuine smiles. He knew then how much she appreciated his being there for her, even in a hopeless situation. "I might have a shower, if that's okay?"

"Of course, help yourself to anything. I expect the food will be here by the time you're finished. Shout if you need anything, okay?"

As he stood to leave her to wash and change, she reached for him and kissed him lightly, on the corner of the mouth; the feeling of her lingered as he headed downstairs.

-X-

As soon as Nikki shut the bathroom door behind her, the comfort she had had from Harry's presence seemed to fall away and already the deep, burning anxiety within her tried to take over. Controlled slow breathing would, she knew, only allow her an appearance of calm for a while. She knew - she had been fighting her mind all day.

Hoping that the cold would soothe her, she opened the tiny bathroom window and turned the shower onto a low temperature. Anything to forget the oppressive, clinging heat that had almost consumed her. Her instincts had been right – washing away the day with cold water was helping somewhat. Feeling her skin prickle with goose bumps, her hairs stand on end and her toes starting to numb were the most pleasant sensations she could imagine. Well, almost. She stood in the icy jet from the shower as long as she could stand it, quickly shampooing her hair and allowing the foam to run down her body, cleansing her. By the time she finished showering, she was almost shivering, and yet she didn't want to feel the soft warmth of a towel around her. The cold autumn air from the open window blew over her skin, drying her a little but cooling her a lot. She took in huge breath of cold air, which was so fresh and caught so deliciously in her chest.

The doorbell brought her out of her reverie, as it reminded her that she was actually quite hungry. Finally relenting to the towel, she dried herself quickly and pulled on the clothes Harry had brought for her. They didn't match and they didn't fit, but they were much more comfortable than what she had been wearing before. After squeezing most of the water from her damp hair and rubbing it with the towel, she was ready for dinner.

Downstairs, Harry was already dishing up the food, a small pile of plastic takeaway containers lay nearby. Nikki came downstairs into the kitchen just as the plates were ready and set out on the kitchen table.

"Here," he passed her the knives and forks and as he did so their hands brushed, he was surprised to feel how icy her fingers felt. She put the cutlery down and he grabbed her hands: "You're freezing Nikki! Something wrong with the hot water?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "It was fine, I just wanted a cold shower."

"You'll make yourself ill. Hopefully dinner will warm you up?"

"Hmm," she murmured, sounding uncertain.

Harry's worry was relieved a little when she did sit down and start to eat. He had been concerned that she wouldn't have an appetite, on top of everything else. Before starting eating himself, he pulled his own jumper over his head and pushed it across the table to Nikki. "Put it on, okay?"

She shook her head and carried on eating in silence. Harry gave an exasperated sigh and started eating himself. The room was quiet for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.

Harry watched Nikki, hating see her look so unhappy. Her skin was pale and the eyes were bloodshot, lacking their usual shine. The dark shadows under her eyes were the worst he'd ever seen on her, worse than she usually was after countless sleepless nights brought on by a horrific investigation at work. She looked to be an empty shell of her usual self. A house that had been burned inside, with the walls still standing, somehow.

Nikki ate, barely tasting each bite. Her mind was too busy pushing away all thoughts of warmth, home, smoke, air… she forced her thoughts to stick with safe topics. Cut the food, load the fork, chew, swallow, repeat. Easy, safe, she could manage that. Even lifting her eyes to look at Harry, who she knew would be looking at her with a concerned expression, was too much for her fragile emotions to take. Cut the food, load the fork, chew, swallow.

She finished eating in record time, even before Harry did – his plate still contained two sweet-and-sour prawns and a pile of rice.

"Someone was hungry," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, I suppose," she replied. Instantly, she regretted eating so quickly. Now she had no task to occupy her hands and her mind; unease filled her as she sat while Harry finished eating.

As soon as Harry's plate was empty, she began clearing the table, something to do to fill the silent void she was feeling.

"You don't have to do that, Nik. Please, let me."

But she had already piled the plates by the sink and turned on the tap to start the washing up. Harry stood behind her and reached to turn the tap off, the water and soap swishing around in the sink. His arms wrapped around her from behind, flinching a little when his hands felt the cold skin on her arms. His face buried into the damp hair at the back of her neck. She was stiff in his arms, not relaxing in to his embrace like he hoped she would.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared too. He had been scared as soon as he got the call from the hospital. He was scared by how quickly he drove himself across London, not knowing what he was going to find when he got there. Scared to see Nikki amongst all the medical equipment: oxygen lines, fluid bags, noisy monitors, and the like. His fear had been dampened by the reassurance from the doctor that she was okay to go home, but then fuelled by her outburst and her behaviour. His relief that she was physically well was crushed by all the evidence that lay before him that she was still scared, and worse, that he could do nothing about it. He couldn't say any of this to her, of course. He wouldn't selfishly burden her with his worries when she had so many of her own.

"I'm so glad you are okay. But please, let me look after you."

"I'm trying," she sighed. "I really am. I just can't…"

"Perhaps you'll feel better after some sleep?" Harry asked hopefully.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I doubt it? But what else can I do?"

"Go and rest," he said, releasing her from his grip. "I'll tidy up here and come and see you in a bit?"

She nodded and wandered upstairs, resigned to a night that she knew would bring little sleep, no matter how tired she was.

Meanwhile Harry put the plates into the sink along with the cutlery, hurriedly threw away all the plastic containers, and reached into his pocket for his phone.

Four missed calls, from Leo. Of course. He sighed, and dialled, holding the phone to his ear and listening to it ring.

"How is she?" came his boss's voice as soon as the call connected.

"Fine – physically. The hospital let me take her home, she's eaten at least. Understandably she's not very happy, she's scared, but nothing unexpected."

"Good. Keep me updated Harry, I'm as worried about her as you are."

"I doubt that. Anyway, I need a favour. I've got to go to court tomorrow. That car crash I did the P.M. for about five months ago? It was pretty open-and-shut but I can't really miss it at short notice and I won't leave Nikki by herself, she needs someone with her."

"Sure, I'll be round first thing."

"Great, could you borrow some clothes from Janet, for Nikki? She's stuck with my old t-shirts at the moment, but Janet must have something that will be better?"

"I'm sure I can find something. Anyway, Harry, I have had some things going on with Nikki's case that I might run past you tomorrow? And Nikki, if she's up to it."

"Of course."

"Look after her, Harry."

"You know I will."

Leo disconnected.

Harry quickly headed upstairs, after leaving the plates in the sink – _they need to soak_ – to look in on Nikki. She was on top of the duvet, lying on her side facing towards the open window, away from the door. Her legs were pulled up against her chest so she was a tight ball. So childlike, so vulnerable. Harry cleared his throat, but got no response.

"Nikki."

She rolled over slowly, and looked at him, not speaking.

"Will you be alright?"

"Probably not. But don't worry," she said. "I don't know if I'll sleep very much, even though I'm so very tired."

"Feel free to come and wake me, if you can't sleep, okay? I'm just next door. I'll leave my door open and you can call me. Don't be alone and scared."

"Don't you have that court case tomorrow, Harry?"

"Yes, but that doesn't matter." _Nothing matters but you, Nikki._

"Of course it does!"

"Honestly, Nikki. The case will go through as it should, even if I do a bad job on the stand. It was a simple one. Surprised it even made it to court. Anyway, it doesn't matter if you wake me up. I'd rather that than you lie here alone all night." Harry tried to reassure her, knowing she would most likely be too stubborn or proud to ask him to stay with her, as much as she might want him to.

"Thanks Harry."

She rolled over again, making it clear that she wanted to be alone. Harry felt at a loss; he could do nothing to comfort her and as much as he wanted her in his arms again, he wanted Nikki to let him know what she needed, not for him to dictate it to her. Resigned, he headed to his own bed, switching the light off in the spare room on the way. It was hours of tossing and turning before either of them fell into a fitful sleep.

-X-

It was around 3am when Harry woke, suddenly. He had been woken by a noise – was it someone screaming or were they crying?

"Nikki!"

He was immediately out of bed and on his way to the spare room, switching the bedroom light on as he passed and blinking in the glare. Nikki was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around her chest and she rocked slightly. Coming round to her side of the bed, by the window, Harry saw that she had indeed been crying and that the shirt she was wearing was drenched with sweat.

"Nikki, shush, I'm here," he soothed as he knelt in front of her, one hand on each of her shoulders. At his touch, she quieted a little and opened her eyes. Glancing around, she looked terrified, as if she had woken somewhere totally unfamiliar, totally alone.

"Harry, what's happening?" she stuttered between sniffs and sobs.

"Nothing, you're okay. It was just a nightmare, okay? You just had a nightmare, but I'm here now."

"Oh god Harry, what's happening to me? I can't stand this." Nikki's eyes screwed up in sadness and frustration and she sunk her head to rest it on Harry's shoulder.

His hands rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her when words would be of little help.

"Was the dream about the fire?" he whispered, his mouth centimetres from her ear.

He felt her nod against him as she took another shuddering breath.

"I just dreamt it, exactly as it was that night. The smoke, the heat. Exactly the same."

"It's okay. It's not real, just a dream. You're safe now."

"Harry, stay with me."

His heart leapt and thought Nikki couldn't see him, he smiled a little.

"Please, Harry?"

"Lie down. Of course I'll stay with you." He turned out the light and then got into bed beside her. She didn't immediately cuddle up to him, as he expected (and hoped), but reached out and grasped his hand in her's.

"God, you're still so cold."

Her fingers that intertwined with his were frigid, but she didn't respond. Harry listened, and was glad to hear that her breathing didn't sound like she was panicking any longer.

"Try to sleep again. If you have another nightmare, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you for all of this, Harry, I really don't."

Despite it all, another smile crept onto his face. "You don't have to thank me at all, Nikki. Seriously. Please just go to sleep."

So she did, much more quickly and deeply this time.


	9. Chapter 9

_Cheering myself by updating - hope you all enjoy!_

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It was dark when Harry awoke, briefly savouring the now-unfamiliar feeling of waking up with someone in his bed. Or rather, his spare bed. With a small groan, he forced himself upright, seeing that Nikki had seemed to free herself from the duvet during the night, and was lying uncovered beside him. As he got out of bed, he pulled the bedding over her, his fingers brushing her calves as he did so. Her skin was so cold.

Leaving the spare room, with one final glance at his sleeping friend, he headed for the bathroom. Normally, Harry would spend the morning mulling over the details of the case he was due to present in court, but that day, his only focus was his worry for Nikki. It was painfully obvious that she had not been herself the day before and Harry was at a loss for what to do, how to help.

The warm water washed over him, but didn't seem to make him feel any better.

He was glad that Leo had agreed to come and stay with Nikki while he was out. Although how he was going to broach the subject with her, he didn't know; she probably wouldn't take kindly to him babysitting her. No matter, thought Harry. She could be angry with him if she wanted; it would be better than the silence, or the tears.

Thoroughly clean, Harry stepped from the shower and dried himself, before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading to his own bedroom. Selecting a black suit and tie from the wardrobe, his appearance in court requiring him to be more smartly dressed than the office usually did, he dressed quickly, and draped the tie around his neck. He couldn't resist checking on Nikki, despite only being away from her for 15 minutes at the most.

The bed was empty.

"Nikki?!"

"I'm here, Harry," he heard her call from downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, there she was. Standing there in his t-shirt and shorts, hair tangled from sleep, and clutching two steaming mugs. In happier circumstances, Harry would have thought that she looked like a dream.

"I made you a drink," she continued.

"I see that," said Harry. He realised he was staring and coughed quickly, making his way down the stairs and taking the mug of coffee from her hand. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it." She didn't meet his gaze as she spoke.

They stood in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, in silence for a few moments, awkwardly sipping their drinks. Harry didn't know what to say and Nikki didn't want to say anything. She looked at the floor, Harry looked at her.

As soon as Nikki finished her tea, Harry took the mug from her.

"Thank you for the coffee," he said, earnestly.

"Least I could do," Nikki mumbled in reply, finally looking up at him, granting him the smallest of small smiles.

He nodded, taking their empty mugs to the kitchen and putting them in the sink, alongside the dishes from their dinner the night before. As he did so, the phone in his jacket pocket began to ring.

Harry leant against the kitchen counter as he looked at the screen and touched 'answer'.

"Leo?"

"Harry, I'm stuck in traffic, won't be at yours for a while yet."

Harry hadn't noticed that Nikki had followed him from the stairs, but saw her now as she came to stand right in front of him. He watched her as he half listened to Leo speculate about which route across London would be easiest, would avoid the worst of the morning rush hour.

"That's fine Leo, whenever you can get here is fine."

Nikki took the tie that Harry had chosen but not tied, and began knotting it neatly, deftly sliding the knot to Harry's neck. Her face was creased in concentration and her fingers brushed his skin as she fastened the top button of his shirt and smoothed the collar over the tie, before finally looking up at him.

Harry didn't even know what he had said to Leo, just that the call had ended somehow. Nikki's gesture had seemed too intimate for words and for the interruption of his boss.

"You never tie it properly," she said, almost a whisper.

The world stopped for a moment as Harry looked at Nikki, and she looked back. The air between them was still; Harry felt frozen, wanting to hold that moment and forget everything he'd ever known about court and fires and hospitals.

It was Nikki that broke the spell.

She stepped back slightly. "Why is Leo coming over?"

Harry sighed. "He wanted to see you, he's worried about you. Plus, I don't want to leave you alone today…" He tailed off, hoping that Nikki would focus on the former, rather than the latter, reason for Leo's presence.

She didn't say anything though, so Harry hoped she was not too unhappy with his plan.

"Help yourself to any food you want, obviously. Make yourself at home, what's mine is yours, and all that," Harry continued as he started to make his move towards the front door. He had to leave soon, or else he would be late, but was dreading leaving Nikki alone. He couldn't bear to think of her having a flashback like she had the previous night and him not being there for her.

"You can text me as well, of course. Just let me know if you need me and I'll try and get home as soon as I can."

He was at the front door by this point, Nikki following him mutely as he pulled his coat on over his suit jacket.

"Leo won't be long. He's bringing you some clothes from Janet, but we can sort out some more clothes for you later, okay?"

Nikki nodded. She knew that she wouldn't be texting Harry while he was in court, sure that she could manage a few hours without him, as much as she didn't want to. Besides, she hadn't even grabbed her phone, in the rush to leave her burning home.

"I don't want to leave you," Harry told her, sadly, reaching for her and pulling her into a tight hug. She let him hold her against him and whispered "I know".

Being so close to Harry was comforting to Nikki, his solidness holding her tight.

"Tell me you will be alright?"

"I will, Harry," she said, her face buried in his dark wool coat.

He sighed, hating the fact he had to be anywhere else.

"I have to go; I'll be back as soon as I can."

He tore himself away and headed into the cold morning, thinking only of the moment when he could return home.

-X-

It was almost an hour before Leo arrived at Harry's front door, anxious to see his friend and colleague.

"Nikki," he greeted, when she opened the door.

"Hi Leo," she replied, forcing a smile. "What's this?"

Leo was partially obscured by a large bunch of flowers he was holding.

"Flowers, they wouldn't let me bring them to hospital. Can I come in?"

Nikki stepped back, letting Leo into the hallway, where he set down the flowers on the sideboard.

"I've also got a card," he handed Nikki a lilac envelope, "and some clothes I borrowed from Janet. I hope they are okay." Leo was blushing slightly at the thought of Nikki wearing his girlfriend's clothes, and was glad that Janet had been able to pick everything out for Nikki, so he didn't have to.

"Thank you," said Nikki, taking the card and clothes from Leo. She felt suddenly self-conscious in Harry's shorts. "Let me go and change clothes, then I'll make you a coffee, and maybe some breakfast?"

"That sounds great Nikki, I'm glad you're okay." He kissed her lightly on the cheek and made his way through the familiar house.

Nikki headed upstairs and quickly changed. Janet's jeans didn't quite fit, but the two women were the same size in shoes, and Nikki was glad to put on some normal clothes; it helped her feel a bit more like herself.

Once back downstairs, she busied herself with the coffee machine again. Keeping her mind and her hands occupied helped stop the memories of the fire from intruding, allowing her a semblance of normality. If there was one thing Nikki knew she didn't want, that was to break down in front of Leo.

"How are you Nikki? Really?" Leo asked once they were both sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Well," she sighed. "The doctors said that my lungs weren't too badly damaged, gas transfer is good according to my blood gases. The damage done to my red bloods cells recover in a couple of months. Other than that, I sprained my ankle, I must have fallen down the stairs while I was getting out? But that is okay. It hasn't been bothering me too much, only an ache. Just cuts and bruises, really."

Leo nodded. "And Harry's looking after you?"

"Of course." She sipped her coffee, hoping that the forced smiles would be enough to satisfy Leo's curiosity. It seemed so, because Leo then moved to easier topics. What the weather was like, how his research was going, his upcoming holiday with Janet. It was just easier. Nikki let Leo describe the small hotel that he had booked while Nikki searched Harry's fridge for something for them to eat.

She interrupted Leo: "How about eggs on toast? Harry doesn't have much in, I'm afraid."

Leo put the bread in the toaster, while Nikki collected a frying pan and oil from the cupboards. Glad to have something else to focus on, she ignited the hob.

As soon as the stove was lit, Nikki's heart started to race. The flicker of the flame was all she could see, the movement all too familiar. In her mind, she was back there, in the flat that the flames had engulfed. She had to get out.

Managing to mumble something like "I'll be back in a minute" to Leo, who was gathering butter to put on toast, she almost ran from the kitchen. Upstairs, in the room she had slept in, she threw the window wide open, drinking in the cold air, but it didn't help her panicked state. Her breaths came deep and fast, her fingers tingled, chest tightening every moment and nausea turning her stomach. Letting herself collapse onto the floor, sitting below the window, the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Although she'd never experienced it before, she knew this was a panic attack. Every sign and every symptom was there.

How could she have been so stupid? She cruelly chastised herself. Every thought of flames or heat seemed to push her dangerously close to losing control, but she thought she could cook something?

Helpless to stop them, tears continued to fall.

 _I can't look after myself. I can't cook,_ she thought. _I am just pathetic._

It wasn't long before Leo started to question her abrupt departure. He found her, still sitting on the floor against the wall, clearly out of breath, with damp cheeks.

"Oh Nikki," Leo said, sadly.

There was no response; she closed her eyes more tightly and pulled herself into a tight ball, arms wrapped around her legs.

Nikki could tell that Leo was unsure what to do; hug her, like Harry would? Wait until she stood, then comfort her with a fatherly hand on her shoulder? He was uncomfortable, that was painfully obvious to Nikki, even in her distracted state.

"I'm fine, Leo," she whispered.

"You clearly aren't," he replied quietly. He waited in the doorway, as Nikki visibly tried to calm her breathing, as well as the images of flames and burning and charred flesh that filled her mind. She could almost smell the smoke and was struggling to shut it out.

"Oh god, why is this happening," she whispered, a few minutes later, when she had settled a little, outwardly at least.

"It's normal, Nikki. You've been through something awful. This is a normal reaction," said Leo, kindly, offering his hand and pulling her up from the floor. He opened his arms and let her step into a gentle hug, holding her awkwardly, as if she were made of breakable porcelain. So different, she realised, to the tight embraces from Harry, who would hold her tightly, anchoring her to the ground.

It wasn't long before they had headed downstairs to try again with breakfast. Leo did all of the cooking this time, while Nikki lingered outside the kitchen and focussed on staying calm.

"Does Harry know you are having panic attacks?" Leo asked gently, as they sat with their plates of eggs in front of them.

"I suppose. I had a nightmare last night, a flashback," replied Nikki, not making eye contact with her boss. "I didn't think I would have any more. Didn't realise the flame would cause it. Silly me." She tried a smile, but they both know her heart wasn't in it.

"Would it help, do you think, to see someone about it, sooner rather than later?"

Nikki didn't reply, just shrugged. The rest of the morning passed them uneventfully. Leo watched Nikki, uneasy and expecting her to have another attack. Nikki watched the clock, counting down the minutes until Harry came back.

* * *

 _Thoughts? Would love to hear from you, as always :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Really enjoying writing this at the moment, so I have more to share :) to my anonymous reviewers, thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am!_

* * *

For November, it had turned into a surprisingly pleasant day, with a crisp and clear blue sky overhead. Harry had to squint as he drove, as the sun was shining straight into his eyes. After five long hours at court, he couldn't be more glad to be on his way home. It had, as he had predicted, been a simple enough conviction; why he couldn't have been the first witness to be called up to the stand, he didn't know. He could have left much earlier if he had been called to give his testimony first thing in the morning. He'd had to listen to two other expert witnesses drone on, all the while wishing he was elsewhere. Fingers drummed on his steering wheel as he made his way through the still-heavy London traffic, impatient to get home to the person who had been filling his mind all day. Finally, he pulled up to his home and strode up to his front door.

"Nikki? Leo?" he called as he let himself in.

"In here Harry," came the reply from Leo, who sounded to be in the living room. The scene that greeted Harry as he entered the room was Leo on an armchair and Nikki nearby, her legs tucked under her at the end of the sofa. Both smiled, although Harry wondered if Nikki's smile was a little uneasy, as they greeted him.

"Would you like a coffee, Harry? Leo? I will make a pot?" Nikki offered, standing. Both men nodded a yes, and she left the room, Harry's eyes following her as she did so.

"How is she?" asked Harry, in a low voice, as he sat down.

Leo gave a noncommittal shrug. "I'll let her tell you."

Harry looked confused and concerned, wondering what had happened in his absence.

"And how are you, Harry?" asked Leo, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

This time, it was Harry's turn to shrug. "Better now she's here, not in hospital." He left out the darkness he felt while Nikki was unconscious; it had lifted as soon as she had awoken, but he couldn't be comfortable knowing that she was not back to her normal self.

Leo suspected that Nikki had earlier glossed over how she was doing, and he wanted to know more from Harry about Nikki's health, physical and mental, but was interrupted. Nikki had just returned with a pot of coffee and three mugs.

Leo started to talk as she poured the drinks: "I have some things to fill you in on in terms of the case, Harry. Nikki, you too. I spoke with DI Johnson and Michael Andrews yesterday, Nikki. They came by to catch up with me, and wanted to know why you weren't working the case anymore. Plus, they wanted to tell me that they were investigating another fire that was similar to the one where Melanie Cooper died, the one you were investigating. Nikki, they think the fire at your building might be linked."

Nikki set the coffee pot down with an almost imperceptible shake of her hands. The colour had drained from her face. "What do you mean, Leo?"

He paused, as if working out how best to continue. Harry reached over and took Nikki's hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Andrews noticed that the fire in your building had multiple start points, just like the original fire. That suggests malicious intent, rather than an accidental fire."

Nikki nodded in apparent understanding. What Leo didn't notice was that she was again concentrating on remaining calm. Harry squeezed her hand tightly and asked "Any leads, Leo? Any suspects?"

"Not yet. They are working on it, and they haven't found the victim's husband, David Cooper. Trying to trace him by his phone calls and credit cards but nothing so far. It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth."

"Wait," interrupted Nikki. She felt a little better talking about the case. Perversely, it helped to focus her mind on it. It felt like she could channel her fears and worries into something useful, rather than keeping them inside her to fester. "They haven't found the husband? He was there, at the crime scene. He came in, got past the police somehow, he was saying that he loved her, he seemed distraught… I sent him out, to the officers outside. He must have just disappeared."

"Nikki, who else knows about this? Did anyone else see him?" Harry's tone was one of concern.

"I don't know. I told the detective at the time, but I didn't follow it up."

Leo thought about what Nikki had just told him. "I think we will need you to check in with the DI, give him a statement about this, perhaps see the police sketch artist, Nikki. We need to know who that man was."

"Leo's right," agreed Harry. "Any information from Nikki's building?"

Leo sighed. "Minimal, I'm afraid. Trying to see if there are any links between anyone in your building, Nikki, and the Coopers. The closest thing we have picked up so far is that you and Melanie Cooper are both blonde."

"Was anyone hurt, Leo? From my building?" Nikki asked, diverting the course of the conversation slightly.

"Two others ended up in hospital, one with minor burns and the other broke their wrist when they were rushing to leave. Everyone else had cuts and bruises, but that's all."

Nikki let out a sigh, thinking of her own ankle, which still ached from a fall down the stairs that she didn't even remember. "Good, that's good." The pad of Harry's thumb ran over her knuckles, soothingly.

"I got the toxicology back on Melanie Cooper. There was a fairly high blood alcohol level – she certainly wouldn't be able to drive anywhere. She would have been pretty deeply asleep. But there was nothing else suspicious there. And the blood results confirmed that she died of carbon monoxide poisoning, not due to the burns. They occurred post mortem."

Harry and Nikki had solemn expressions. This was the usual cause of death in patients who died in house fires; the fumes got them before the fire did.

"They also said, Nikki that you can go to your building, if you want. Michael Andrews will help you look around. See if there's anything left…" Leo trailed off, seeing uncertainty in Nikki's eyes.

"You don't have to, Nikki," said Harry. "Only if you want to."

"No, I'll go," she said, though Harry suspected that she spoke with more determination than she felt. "If there is anything left, I want to see it."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry offered.

"No," replied Nikki immediately, sharply. She softened her tone and looked at Harry: "I want to do this myself."

Leo and Harry exchanged a glance but said nothing. Harry couldn't help feel disappointed; almost as if he wanted Nikki to need him to be there for her, rather than being glad that she felt strong enough to manage things herself.

"Anything else from the case, Leo?"

"That's everything Nikki. I'll keep you updated, of course."

She nodded, and began clearing away the mugs and coffee pot.

"I'd best be off, Harry," said Leo as Nikki left the room. "I said I'd meet with the fire inspector this afternoon, to go and see Nikki's building. I'd like to go there before Nikki does, see how bad it is. So I can warn her if there's nothing left."

"Sure. Thank you for looking after her, Leo. I really appreciate it. And you know Nikki does too."

Leo nodded. "I'm glad she's alright. And that you are here for her."

"You know where to find us if there are any developments, Leo."

Again, Leo nodded, and both stood, heading towards the front door. Leo called a goodbye to Nikki, who was busying herself with washing up. She was still standing by the sink when, moments later, Harry came into the kitchen after seeing Leo to the front door. He leant against a worktop, arms folded across his chest and legs crossed, watching Nikki move about the kitchen, seemingly unaware of his presence. She put away the cups and the things from breakfast that had been drying, showing a tidiness to her that Harry hadn't thought she possessed, given the usual mess that littered her desk. Finally, she turned and saw him watching her.

"I've been worrying all day," he said, simply.

There was no reply; as soon as the words left his lips, Nikki was crossing the kitchen to him, pressing herself against him and wrapping her arms around him, clinging to her life raft, struggling to keep her head above the water.

"Oh Nikki, what is it?" Harry's voice was thick and deep as he wrapped his arms around her. He could feel that she wasn't crying, but she seemed on the verge of breaking down.

Her voice cracked as she spoke: "It's so hard, Harry, I can't. I'm too tired."

"Too tired?" Harry was confused; they hadn't had the best night's sleep, but it was enough to manage, surely?

"It was exhausting, pretending to be okay. I didn't want to be like this in front of Leo, I tried so hard, and then…"

Up until then, her face had been buried in the smart suit jacket that Harry was still wearing, but as she spoke those words, Harry lifted her head with two fingers under her chin, to look into her watery eyes.

"And then? What happened?"

"I had a panic attack when I turned the hob on. It's pathetic, really." She let out a short laugh, though neither of them thought that the situation was especially funny. "I didn't want Leo to know, went upstairs to try and calm down. He found me though. And now? Thinking that this fire had something to do with my crime scene, that is absolutely terrifying. You know what that crime scene was like. Someone was out to get that poor woman, and then they came to where I live and did the same to me. I could have been the next corpse on the slab and I could do nothing about it. What if he isn't finished? What if he has a plan? Anyone could be next. He could come back to finish the job on me…" She was breathing heavily by the time her words trailed off to silence, seeming to have tired herself out with her outpouring of feelings.

"You don't have to hide this, Nikki. Leo and I – we just want to help you."

She nodded, weakly. "I know. I just hate it. I don't want to be like this, I don't want to think these thoughts. I know you will look after me, both of you. You always do. But I don't want you to have to."

Harry nodded, swallowing the lump that he felt in his throat.

"I will be okay, I suppose," Nikki continued, though she didn't sound especially sure of herself. "It will just take time. Won't it, Harry?"

Desperately, Nikki looked up at Harry, needing his agreement and support, more than anything. Harry looked back at her. Their eyes locked. It was only for a moment, but he had the strangest feeling, as Nikki's lip trembled minutely (anyone other than Harry might not have even noticed it), that she wanted him to kiss her. That she didn't just need his friendship and support; that she needed all of him.

Of course, the moment passed, slipping just through Harry's fingers as he gave a cough to clear his throat, to answer the question that he had briefly forgotten had been asked.

"Yes, it'll probably take time, Nikki. But as long as you need, I'll be here. You couldn't get rid of me, even if you tried."

A ghost of a smile danced around her mouth, the first real smile Harry had seen in three days, though her eyes were still damp. He returned the smile in kind, hoping that some of what he said was helping to reassure her troubled mind.

"Can we do something, Harry?" Nikki asked abruptly. An idea had occurred to her. "Now? I want to go somewhere. I feel cooped up already, just staying here all day."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know, the park? I want to get some fresh air. Then maybe we could get something to eat? How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfect," said Harry, because it really did sound like a perfect afternoon, for both of them. "Let me get changed first, then I am all yours."


	11. Chapter 11

_The Silent Witness fandom has become almost busy over the past couple of days! I would hate to miss the party, so had to update! Hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

As soon as Harry's front door shut behind him, Leo's phone rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, he quickly held it to his ear.

"Professor Dalton."

"Hi, it's DI Johnson. We have found the victim's husband, David Cooper." The news was delivered in the Detective's gruff voice. "Would you like to be there when we interview him?"

"Of course!" replied Leo, his feet below him picking up the pace as he rushed to his car.

-X-

An hour later, he was greeted at the station by the detective and handed a plastic cup of gritty coffee, which he only sipped out of politeness.

"So, David Cooper," the detective began he led Leo to the interview room. "He's a 38-year-old, been married to the victim, Melanie, for nine years. Claims he has spent the last week with his family, hasn't had his phone on, which is why we haven't been able to get hold of him."

Already, it seemed to Leo that the husband would provide more questions than answers. He allowed himself to be ushered into the side room, so he could watch the interview without being in the same room as the interviewee.

David Cooper was a man of medium build, not especially tall. Unremarkable, with his light hair, pale eyes and clean shaven face. He was sitting at the table in the blank room with an equally blank look on his face, as he stared at the grey floor, unmoving. As the detective entered the room, he glanced up, but didn't speak. The detective set up the tape recorder and began the formalities of the interview.

"This is Detective Inspector Johnson, interviewing Mr David Cooper. There are no other persons here present. It is 14:58 on the 20th November 2012. Please confirm your name and address for the tape, Mr Cooper."

He did so, in a slightly shaky voice.

"Thank you Mr Cooper," the detective continued. "As you know, you are not under caution and are free to leave at any time, but we are extremely grateful that you have agreed to help us with our enquiries."

The man nodded, and the detective described this, for the benefit of the tape recording, before commencing the interview properly.

"Now, Mr Cooper, as you know, we are investigating the death of your wife, Melanie Cooper. We are deeply sorry for your loss. How much do you know about what happened to her?"

Leo watched him take a deep breath before replying.

"All I know is that there was a fire and the house was destroyed while she was still inside. I don't understand why the police are involved."

DI Johnson nodded sympathetically. "That is correct. There was a fire at the house you shared, three nights ago." He left a pause, allowing the man to collect his thoughts. Tears began to flow down his face.

Leo found himself feeling sorry for Cooper. He was their best and only suspect, but given the display of emotion, he was either a very good actor or he was innocent. Leo knew only too well the pain of losing the woman he loved. Though years had passed since the accident in which Cassie and Theresa had died, watching the suspect in the interview room shed tears over his wife, the pain of losing them flared in Leo suddenly, like a punch in the gut.

"I am sorry to have to ask you these questions at this difficult time, Mr Cooper, but we really want to know what happened to your wife. Where were you three nights ago?"

Cooper wiped his face and spoke in a quiet voice. "I was staying with my brother. I had to get away from Mel, away from here, for a while."

Leo and the detective both seemed to hold their breath, waiting for an explanation. Could it be coincidence that this man "had to get away" at the same time that his wife was potentially murdered?

"Mel, she… last week she told me that she had been having an affair."

DI Johnson's posture changed immediately; his back straightened and he leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single word. The implication of this was obvious, at least to Leo. An affair? That meant _motive_.

"It had been going on for over a year, she said. I was devastated."

To Leo's eyes, he seemed to be genuine. The tears were profusely flowing and shaking sobs started to take over him. Cooper was the picture of a broken man.

The detective compassionately waited, allowing the interviewee time to collect himself before continuing.

"Did she tell you who she was having an affair with?"

Cooper shook his head.

"Please answer out loud, for the tape recording, Mr Cooper," prompted DI Johnson.

"Mel didn't tell me who she was having an affair with, no. She said she was planning to end it while I was away. We both thought that time apart would be good, just a little while."

"Of course. Do you have an alibi for the evening of 17th November? That is the night the fire took place."

Through the tears, a flare of anger became visible on the man's face. "What, you think I did this? You think I burned my house down because she slept with someone else? Detective, I must tell you, I still love her! I was angry with her, sure. But nothing like this!" Cooper's fists were clenched by the time he finished his outburst.

Leo was impressed with DI Johnson. Despite his gruff exterior, he had a fantastic manner when he was in the interview room.

"Mr Cooper," the detective said. "We just want to rule out your involvement in this. That is all. Then we can leave you to grieve."

-X-

The interview didn't continue for much longer. David Cooper had little information to give them, beyond providing the details of his own alibi. He was soon allowed to leave.

Leo and the detective sat down together to discuss the interview, Leo quickly declining the offered coffee.

"What do you think, Professor Dalton?"

"To be honest, I am convinced. He looked to be just a grieving husband to me."

"I agree," said the detective, letting out a slight groan in apparent annoyance. "It's frustrating – he was the best lead we had! The only lead! But if his alibi checks out, we are back to square one."

"Not necessarily," replied Leo, remembering a conversation he had had that morning. "I was with Dr Alexander, Nikki, earlier today. And she mentioned something you might be interested in."

"Oh yeah? How is she?"

Leo considered his answer, suspecting that Nikki would not appreciate having her mental state discussed throughout the police force. "She's improving. But anyway, she told me that she had seen a man at the crime scene, at the Cooper house. A man came into the scene while she was examining the body, while she was alone. No one else saw him, but she thought you were aware of it."

Dawning realisation and irritation crossed DI Johnson's face.

"Bugger, you're right!" he exclaimed. "I'd completely forgotten about that!"

"Nikki thought that he might have been the husband? She said he was acting strangely, wanting to see the body, claiming to be in love with her…"

This time it was the detective who clenched his fist in anger.

"We need to know if that was David Cooper. Can Dr Alexander come and give us a statement? Perhaps work with the sketch artist? Or at least have a look at Mr Cooper, see if it is the same man she saw?"

Leo nodded. "I'm sure she would be willing to help."

"Good, good. Oh did I tell you Professor Dalton? Andrews called me this morning. He has been looking into the forensics collected at both of the fires, at the Cooper residence and your Dr Alexander's place. There is evidence of the same fire starter being used in both fires. They both involved a candle that was left to burn on a pile of papers. Once the candle burned down and the papers caught, the rest is history. Apparently the wax traces found in the two buildings matched. On the basis of that, we are definitely looking at them being the same case from now on."

The implication was not lost on Leo. "Do you think that Nikki was targeted then? It's quite the coincidence that someone burns down her home the day she goes to investigate another fire that was set by the same person?"

Ominously, the detective did not answer.

-X-

Under the fresh, cool skies, Harry and Nikki walked through the park.

By night, the park near Harry's house would be taken over by teenagers, out to smoke, drink and shout out of the watchful gaze of worried, oblivious parents. By contrast, it was a green haven in the daylight.

Nikki was reluctantly bundled up against the cold in Harry's black wool coat, while he wore his leather jacket. In silence, they walked. Their feet dragged through the autumnal carpet, all red and gold and brown and damp from the past few days of rain. Their hands were by their sides and cold fingers occasionally brushed one another; they didn't hold hands though. That said, there was an undeniable togetherness about them that was plain to see.

For the first time since… everything, Nikki felt free. Not choking, smothered, trapped, but free to take in the cold air, lavish herself in the chill of November. Even the fiery colours of the leaves that were coating the ground could not ruin her mood, so glad was she to be outside.

Beside her, Harry could sense her happiness. There was a slight upturning of her lips that he had missed, visible whenever he glanced towards her. He was not so naïve to think that she was back to normal, of course, but was glad all the same.

As usual on a Tuesday afternoon, the park was mainly populated with dog walkers and runners. Harry and Nikki were the only people who were there without apparent purpose.

"Nikki?" Harry broke the silence, looking sideways at her.

"I'm okay. Really." She pre-empted his question. Despite everything she had been through that week, Nikki could see that worrying about her had taken a toll on Harry too. But that was how they always were; happy when the other was having a good day and sad when they weren't.

As they reached the middle of the park, where all of the various footpaths converged around a grand oak tree, Harry's phone began to ring. The pair stopped briefly so that Harry could answer it. It was Leo, updating them on everything that had happened since he had left them.

"They have found the husband," Harry relayed to Nikki. "They want you to see him, see if you recognise him. Can you do that tomorrow?" She nodded in agreement with the plan.

After he hung up, it seemed natural to Nikki to loop her arm around Harry's, linking them together as they walked side by side. Of course she was aware that people would be confusing them for a couple - it wouldn't be the first time. But in that moment, she just wanted to be close to the best friend she had ever known.

"Well, this is nice," Harry remarked, feeling her snuggle into his side. "You and me, the park, the sun…"

They reached a bench that overlooked a small duck pond and sat down together, still close to each other with the sides of their legs touching. A small child, walking with his mother on the opposite side of the pond, giggled as the ducks waddled past him, and Nikki felt herself let out a giggle too, much to Harry's delight.

"It is nice," she agreed. "I'm glad you're here."

"As am I. It's a shame, I live so close to this park, but never really come here. And certainly not just to sit and enjoy it. Maybe I will make a habit of it."

"Maybe I will too," said Nikki with a smile.

They let silence fall once more. Neither of them wanted or needed to say anything. It was so easy for both of them to sit in companionable quiet and watch the leaves fall and the pond ripple and the children play. Unfortunately, it was all too short and soon the light began to fade away into the evening.

Harry, in only his leather jacket, was beginning to feel the chill, and he was beginning to feel hungry. Though he was loathe to move his friend, who had laid her head on his shoulder during the short while they had been sitting, he knew it would be unwise to stay in the park much longer.

"Hey," he said, nudging her in the side. "Time to go."

"Hmm? Are you cold?"

"Hungry, actually. Let's get something to eat."

There was a small Italian restaurant close to Harry's home that he had never visited before, and the pair of pathologists stopped there for dinner.

Harry wondered to himself, as he took in the Mediterranean décor while Nikki stared intently at the menu, why he had never been in that particular restaurant before. He must have walked past it a thousand times and never noticed its loveliness; but then, it was easy to take things for granted when they were there every day.

He then looked to Nikki, chewing her lip as she pondered the various pizza toppings. Pensive, his eyes dropped to mouth, and he admitted to himself that perhaps it wasn't just the restaurant that he had been taking for granted.

"Shall we share this pepperoni one, Harry? And add some mushrooms and olives?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Olives? No thank you!"

"Spoilsport, you can just pick them off your half!"

"We could just not order them," he sulked. Though he was frowning, he knew he was going to relent eventually and let Nikki have her olives.

"Are you both ready to order?" The waiter came over at that moment, speaking in a strong Italian accent.

Grinning impishly at Harry, Nikki ordered the pizza with the toppings she had chosen, while he rolled his eyes.

"Anything else for the two of you?"

"Two Peronis, please," said Harry, resigning himself to a good dinner ruined by his least favourite ingredients.

The waiter diligently noted their order, before swiftly striking a match to light the candle that sat in the centre of the table. The young man was gone a second later, not having noticed his blonde customer physically recoil from the naked flame that he had just laid in front of her.

Of course, Harry noticed. Without even seeing Nikki's reaction, he blew the candle out and reached for her hand. The smoke dispersed as she grasped his hand in her own, and silently thanked him for every time he knew exactly what she needed, almost as soon as she did.


	12. Chapter 12

Both Harry and Nikki were subdued during the drive to the police station the next morning. Neither had slept well, restless in their separate beds. Both had been worrying about Nikki going back to her flat and neither had plucked up the courage to lay down next to the other.

Nikki had tossed and turned, unable to sleep easily, knowing that she wouldn't be able to escape the acrid smell and hating the fact that she would have to accept that the home she had loved was almost certainly no more than an ashen shell.

Harry's worries left him uneasy, waking in a cold sweat. His dreams were filled with images of Nikki in her burned flat, in her burning flat, charred flesh on a mortuary table, in a hospital bed…

Quiet and despondent, they trudged into the station. Despite his tiredness, Harry didn't forget to lay a comforting hand on the small of Nikki's back, just above the waistband of the ill-fitting and borrowed jeans. They were greeted by DI Johnson, who nodded to Harry and then spoke to Nikki.

"Dr Alexander, I'm glad to see you are alright," he said, seeming unused to sentimentality of any kind.

"Thank you Detective," was all she could say in response.

"Right, I'll get the husband, David Cooper. I'll just ask him a couple of questions then send him home, that should give you enough time to recognise him."

Nikki nodded, and followed the detective to the observation room, where Leo was awaiting their arrival.

"Hi Leo," she said, mustering a half-smile.

"Hi Nikki. How are you?"

She didn't miss Leo's glance over her shoulder as he spoke, no doubt catching Harry's eye as he shut the door behind them. Indeed, the two men exchanged worried looks as Nikki tried unconvincingly to reassure them that she was okay.

"Did you watch the interview with David Cooper yesterday, Leo?" Nikki asked, bringing the conversation away from her mental state and onto the case at hand.

"Yes, but I'll let you see if you recognise him before I fill you both in," Leo said, cautiously.

At that moment, they watched two men enter the interview room. One was DI Johnson, but the other was unfamiliar to all but Leo.

"It isn't him," Nikki gasped. "He wasn't at the crime scene. He isn't the man I saw."

Yet again, Leo and Harry exchanged hesitant looks behind Nikki's back.

"You're sure?" Harry asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Of course I'm sure," Nikki snapped. Taking a deep breath, she immediately regretted her sharp words. "I'm sorry Harry. Just a little on edge this morning. But yes, I'm sure that he is not the man who I saw at the crime scene. He was taller, a little slimmer as well. Darker hair…" She trailed off while they listened to the detective ask a few perfunctory questions of the man who appeared to no longer be a viable suspect. Before long, DI Johnson thanked Cooper and left him to join the pathologists in the neighbouring room.

"So?" He looked expectantly at Nikki as he entered the room, but his face fell a little when all three shook their heads. "Damn."

"I think I would be able to describe the man I saw," said Nikki, hoping to bring some good news to the somewhat sombre air that hung heavily over the case.

"I was hoping you were going to say that, Dr Alexander," the detective replied. "Let's do that now, everything is set up to put a photo-fit together." He stomped to the door, holding it open for Nikki, before leading her a little way along the corridor and leaving Leo and Harry alone.

As soon as the door closed, Leo turned to Harry.

"How was Nikki after I left?" The concern that Leo felt was obvious in the tight lines of his face and the tense set of his jaw.

"Fine, I suppose," Harry sighed, running his hands over his head and through his hair in mild frustration. "She didn't have any panic attacks, if that's what you mean. We went out for a walk and for dinner, which cheered her up. She slept a little better, I think. No nightmares. At least, none that I am aware of."

Leo nodded, glad that his dear friend was appearing to be improving quickly.

Harry continued. "I'm worried though. About her going back to her flat. I am not sure that it will do her any good." He was frowning, imagining every worst case scenario that Nikki could face that day. Since the previous day, he had not brought up the subject of joining her after she refused his offer so resolutely. Not least because he didn't want her alone with Andrews, the fire inspector. Harry wanted to be the one she turned to when she needed someone; of course he did.

Leo interrupted his thoughts. "I suggested to Nikki that she see someone, a doctor, if she keeps having problems with anxiety."

Harry laughed, without mirth. "I can just imagine how she took that."

"To tell the truth, she just seemed uninterested. Maybe it wasn't the right time to bring it up."

Harry didn't reply; Leo pressed on.

"I'm glad you're here actually, Harry. There's been a development you should know about. With the case. They found evidence that the same method was used to start the fire in Nikki's flat as in the fire she was investigating. They are definitely linked."

Harry's hands balled into tight fists as Leo spoke. The possibility had always been there, but having strong evidence that the two fires had been intentionally set by the same person was hard to take. Someone had targeted Nikki, and the mere knowledge brought Harry fear and fury in equal doses.

"I'll let you tell her, Harry. I think the news will be best coming from you."

He gave another mirthless laugh. "In what way will that make this better news for her, Leo?"

-X-

Sometime later, Nikki had left the police station with Michael Andrews to go back to her flat and Harry had returned to the Lyell Centre with Leo.

Nikki sat in the front of Andrews' car, in a state of quiet apprehension. Beside her, Andrews chatted as he drove, hoping to emulate the easy conversation they had shared whilst at the crime scene a few days before. It was hard to believe it was only days; with everything that had happened, the time stretched out behind her like it had been years. Andrews had to carry most of the conversation, receiving only muted syllables from Nikki in response. Had he looked a little closer at the woman next to him, he might have seen a slight wobble of her lip while she spoke and a shake of her hand; she was the picture of a terrified woman, desperately trying to keep a tenuous grasp on her emotions. Of course, those emotions would have to spill over sooner or later. Nikki just hoped that she could last until she had seen what had been done to her home.

Nikki knew exactly where she was. She had driven those streets a hundred or a thousand times on her way back from the station. It was unnecessary to announce that they had arrived.

"Here we are," said Andrews as they pulled up.

Looking up at the once-beautiful old building, Nikki felt anxiety grow within her. The black marks that marred the walls stung Nikki unexpectedly. She had been preparing herself to deal with the damage to her flat, but had forgotten that the whole of the building would have been marked. She could imagine the stone staircase, previously white but now grey and dark.

They stepped out of the car and approached the front door. As they walked, Andrews explained that the structure was solid and safe, given that the building was largely constructed of stone. Nikki barely heard him as she greedily filled her lungs with fresh air, taking breaths that felt like they would be her last.

Once inside the gloomy hallway, as well as the acrid smoke, Nikki was hit with a strange mix of the familiar and the new. Everything was exactly the same as it always had been; the gently curving stairway up to her home was of course there. But it was dark, not light. The walls were close, not open and airy. Her fingers tingled and her pulse quickened as they made their way upstairs until they finally reached her doorway.

"I'll leave you to it and wait out here. Just shout if you need me," Andrews said, kindly.

She nodded, her mouth stuck together with a swollen, dry tongue. Nothing could have prepared Nikki for the sight that lay before her through the open front door; what had been her home had been decimated by flames. Almost nothing was recognisable as she stepped over the threshold into the flat; the lumpy shapes of destroyed furniture stood in front of a ruined kitchen. Soot and ash lifted from the floor with every step Nikki took as she made slow progress through the open room. Glancing around, she became overwhelmed with fear and sadness upon seeing that none of the decorations or ornaments that she used to own had survived the inferno. A shelf of books had been reduced to a few scraps of singed paper that would never be read. Dim light tried to cut through the gloom, but everything that was illuminated by it was bleak and haunted.

Taking in the ruined kitchen, Nikki's subconscious noticed something. There were familiar-shaped scorch marks on the walls; in a previous life, she would have understood their significance.

Gingerly, Nikki crept through her flat, filled with dread. It was with great apprehension that she pushed open the door to her bedroom, but she was soon rewarded with a slight glimmer of hope. Her bedroom had not been as badly damaged. Of course, there was damage – smoke had stained the carpet and walls, everything smelt as bad as the rest of the flat. Ever practical, Nikki crossed the room to a chest of drawers beside her bed, finding a small file of papers in the middle drawer. She knew that the file would contain her passport, some bank statements and various insurance documents.

Before collecting these important items, she contemplated her wardrobe. She didn't even have any clothes of her own and she didn't want to carry on in ill-fitting, borrowed garments. Reaching for the first item that she could, a woolly jumper dress, she brought it to her face and instantly recoiled. She should have known; the cloth stank of stale smoke. How could she wear something that would bring her right back to that flat, those moments of fear?

Her resolve began to crack as she allowed the true depth of loss to envelope her. Almost everything she had ever owned had been in that flat. A whole lifetimes of collected objects, mementoes and possessions, both practical and personal, destroyed in a few short minutes. Salty tears poured down her cheeks and she imagined that the moisture was making tracks through the black soot that she was sure had settled on her face. It didn't take long before the quiet sobs turned into gut-wrenching wails and she found herself doubled over, arms wrapping around her stomach, curled in defence against the world. Shaking and powerless, she didn't feel the crack of her knees hitting the floor as her legs collapsed beneath her and she barely noticed her hands become covered in ash. All she knew was loss and despair.

After a while that could have been two minutes, or as long as half an hour, Nikki rose from the floor. Exhausted from her emotions, she moved numbly about the room, collecting the few things that she wanted. There was no attempt to brush the ash from her clothing nor her skin. It was as if she was a shell of a person and someone, something else was guiding her through the basic motions for survival. With an armful of souvenirs from her brief grisly return to her old life, she carefully made her way out of her flat for the final time.

Andrews was still waiting outside her home; she had almost forgotten that he was there. His jaw dropped as she stepped into view – her hands and clothes a black mess from the floor, and one glance at her face told him that she had been crying.

"Dr Alexander! Are you okay?" he exclaimed.

Her eyes widened in surprise as he spoke. Slowly she replied. "Take me back to the Lyell Centre, Mr Andrews."

Without looking back, she made her way down the stairs, her desire to be outside increasing with every step. The further she got from her flat, the further she wanted to be.

Stepping into the outside air, she was halted by cool fresh air. It flooded Nikki's lungs and she drank it in, as if breathing clearly was a novel experience. Physically, she felt a little better – her fingers no longer tingled uncomfortably, and her heart rate was noticeably slowing – but inside, she still felt a hot fear, burning away.

A few paces behind, Andrews was at a loss. Should he comfort the woman that stood before him? She was clearly deeply distressed but seemed utterly unreachable. So different was the Dr Alexander that he had seen today compared to the one that he had known from the crime scene. He had never had the psychological effects of the devastation caused by a fire demonstrated to him so acutely.

Andrews placed a hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a kind gesture, but she instantly shuddered and stepped away from him. The disappointment stung him; he had just wanted to cheer her up a little.

"Is there anything else, Mr Andrews? Or can we be on our way?" There was no missing the shakiness in her voice when she spoke.

With a heavy heart, he gestured towards his car. "We can be on our way, Dr Alexander."

The entire drive back to the university campus was conducted in silence, Nikki still clutching the papers against her chest, while Andrews still felt the sting of her rejection of his comfort.

As soon as they pulled into the car park nearest the Lyell Centre, Nikki was out of the car. She craved the temporary relief of fresh air, taking deep gasping breaths of it, though she could still smell smoke that seemed to gather around her in a cloud of smog.

"Mr Andrews, would you fetch Dr Cunningham? He will be on the third floor."

Resigned to not being able to directly help Dr Alexander as he wanted to, Andrews obliged her by making his way inside the Lyell Centre and soon found Dr Cunningham at her request.

"Dr Cunningham?" he began, before Harry interrupted him.

"Andrews – where's Nikki?"

"She's… Dr Alexander became quite upset. She is outside, she asked me to fetch you, Dr Cunningham."

Harry barely had time to bark out his thanks to Andrews before swiftly heading down the stairs. Within seconds of leaving the building, he spotted Nikki, leaning against his car. She was a tiny, hunched figure and curled into herself in protection against the world around her.

"Nikki!" he called, jogging across to her.

Upon hearing his call, she turned, and Harry could see the full extent of the distress she was in. Tears were again falling from her eyes, and Harry could guess the state of her destroyed home, just from the amount of dust and ash that covered Nikki's clothes. In a happier moment, he might have pointed out that she looked like one of those urchins from the century before who cleaned chimneys, but the time was certainly not right. Instead, he gathered her close to him, pressing her to his chest and letting her emotions take their toll.

When the last of the shivering sobs left her body, he heard a few quiet words from Nikki.

"Harry, take me home."


	13. Chapter 13

_Slow update because life is mental right now. Let me know if you enjoy :)_

* * *

Leo could hear Harry speaking with Andrews, but couldn't make out what they were saying, so headed out of his office to greet the fire officer. He was surprised to see Andrews alone.

"Mr Andrews," he greeted. "Is Dr Alexander with you?"

Andrews looked uneasy. "No, Professor Dalton. She didn't cope too well with the crime scene, I'm afraid. Dr Cunningham is with her now."

Leo nodded, concerned but not surprised that Harry had left immediately to be with Nikki. He made a mental note to check on them later on.

"I see. Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr Andrews, while you're here?"

"Please, call me Mike. Do you have the toxicology reports back on Melanie Cooper?"

"Ah yes, they should be ready by now," Leo recalled that he received an email from the toxicology department in the last hour. "Come through to my office and we'll see what we've got."

The two men made their way to Leo's office, where he sat behind his desk and tapped a few letters on the keyboard. He soon had the report displayed on the screen, which Andrews skimmed over his shoulder.

"Not that helpful I'm afraid," commiserated Leo, as he explained the graphs that were visible in the report. "Nothing out of the ordinary in the bloods, other than raised blood alcohol content. That level in a woman of her size would suggest that she had around half a bottle of wine in the hours prior to her death. She couldn't drive at that level, but she wouldn't be extremely intoxicated. This doesn't really help us at all."

Andrews shook his head in slight frustration. "Thank you anyway, Professor. Could I have a copy? The DI will want to see it, even if it isn't much use."

Leo obliged, hitting print.

"It must be a busy time for your department," Leo said, making small talk. "It can't be often that you are working on a murder case?"

"No," Andrews agree. "The vast majority of arson cases are on large empty industrial sites and it's rare that anyone gets hurt. The last time we had a case like this was… oh around a year and a half ago? I wasn't directly involved, but as I recall, a woman was quite severely burned in an arson attack on her house during the night. Pretty similar to all of this really, but she survived. Just like your Dr Alexander. Although this one was in a pretty bad state, as I recall."

"Oh really?" Leo pressed, his curiosity piqued.

"I don't know too much else about it. As I said, I wasn't too involved."

Leo was quiet; his mind was on overdrive. A night-time arson attack on a young woman? It was not completely unlike the very case they were working on.

"Was there ever an arrest?"

"Not as far as I know."

As Leo said his goodbyes to Andrews, he was still deep in thought. Was there a possibility that the Cooper case was not the first attack by the arsonist they were trying to build a case against? For the rest of the afternoon, his mind was preoccupied with potential motives and possible identities – could it be a jilted lover, seeking his revenge? An unstable individual, randomly attacking at will? Destructive teens, who were unaware of the trouble they left behind? He couldn't focus on the normal jobs at the Lyell Centre with all of those questions echoing in his mind.

He picked up his phone and dialled.

"Andrews? Hi, it's Leo Dalton. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could read anything you've got on that old arson case you mentioned this afternoon?"

-X-

The door shut behind them with a soft thud as they arrived in Harry's hallway. He was watchful, while Nikki was subdued. She slumped against the wall, her eyes screwed tight against the outside world. Wordlessly, Harry shrugged off his jacket and hung it, then took off his shoes. Nikki hadn't reacted to him moving around her, and didn't resist a few moments later, when he pulled her into a tight hug. There were no tears making their way down her cheek, nor any sobbing or wailing. It was as if the emotions, the up and down of the last few days, had all been used up, and all she had left was quiet nothingness. After a few moments though, her silence became too much to bear, for Harry at least.

"I'm sorry, Nikki. I'm sorry this has happened to you. If there was anything I could do, I wish there was, you know I would do it."

A muffled reply came from somewhere near his chest. "None of this is your fault, Harry."

"You know that's not what I meant."

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. They had held each other like this so many times, trying to squeeze the hurt away. So many times, Nikki had been in trouble or upset, and he managed to help soothe the pain and bring her back to her normal self. This time though, it felt like they were going in circles, one step forward then two steps back.

"I need to shower," said Nikki, interrupting Harry's thoughts and pulling away from him.

"Of course," he muttered, letting her go with his usual reluctance.

Déjà vu struck Nikki as she walked up the stairs. Once again, she was pulling away from Harry's comfort so that she could be alone and wash the aftermath of a fire from her body. Again, she scrubbed her skin hard, shampooed her hair twice, and stood in the cool water until she shivered. She knew that the towel would scratch and hurt her skin after scrubbing so hard – it had only been days since the last time she had been through all of this. After drying herself and dressing, this time in a soft tracksuit borrowed from Harry and a plain white t-shirt, Nikki headed downstairs. The bundle of dirty clothes was held at arms-length; she knew they needed to be washed, but had no desire to be any closer to them than was required. Despite her best efforts, the smell of the smoke was still there, and she knew that the ash would be all over her hands.

As soon as she reached the threshold of the kitchen, she halted. The familiar hiss of the gas hob burst into her mind and she gasped as images of flames and charred flesh followed in quick succession. Suddenly her arms weren't strong enough to hold the clothes and her legs nearly buckled beneath her. She staggered back a few steps, desperate to get away from the heat of cooking. It was to the living room that she fled, folding herself into a tight ball on the edge of the sofa and struggling to regain control of her racing heart. Every time, the panic was just as bad and the fear was just as real. She was transported back to her worst nightmare again and again, powerless to pull herself from the grip that it held over her.

Oblivious to all of this, Harry continued cooking. It wasn't much - just pasta for two with some tomato sauce from a jar and a small wilted salad - but it was something. He topped the pasta with a careful sprinkling of grated cheese and picked up both plates. As soon as he left the kitchen, he realised something was wrong when he stepped over the dropped pile of dirty clothes. Almost immediately, he then saw Nikki, who was still curled up on the sofa and hadn't moved for a good few minutes.

"Nikki?" he asked, making his way towards her, ignoring the laundry. "Hey, what happened?"

As he approached, she sat up and wiped her face with her hand.

"Sorry Harry, it was the cooking. I'm okay now, I'm fine," she lied.

"You don't have to be sorry," Harry set the pasta down and took her hand, squeezing it and hoping that a touch could convey all of his desperation to help her. "I made dinner," he continued with a shrug. "It's not much but I think you should eat, Niks."

"That's very sweet."

They began to eat in silence, Nikki still feeling hot and panicky. Beside her, Harry worried and fussed, but Nikki ate without complaint and soon was setting the empty plate down on the coffee table.

With a sigh, she settled back into the sofa cushions.

"Feel better?" Harry asked tentatively. An uncertain shrug was the only response, so Harry lifted his arm, hoping that she would come closer to him. As the days had passed, the fear of almost losing Nikki had passed a little too, but having her next to him, physical and solid, had always made him feel a little better, regardless of what was troubling him.

Settling beside her, Harry flicked the television on, thinking that a few hours of mindlessness might do them both good.

 _"_ _Is reruns of Top Gear all that is on these days?"_ he wondered, between stealing glances at Nikki. Eyes glassy and out of focus, she was not really seeing the television.

After half an hour of silence, the only sound was the engine noise from the screen, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"I wish I knew what you were thinking," he said, no more than a whisper, given how closely they were sitting.

Nikki turned her head slightly.

"Harry, I think you may know me better than anyone."

"That may be, but that does not mean that I can read your mind at any given moment."

"Well, maybe I should just tell you." She paused, tentative about what she was about to say. "I think, Harry, that I can't cope with my thoughts anymore. And I might need to see a doctor."

Reluctantly, she glanced at Harry, trying to read his expression and his response to what she had said.

For his part, Harry was a little taken aback, but also somewhat pleased. Nikki had decided to seek help because she felt she needed it, rather than because of nagging from himself or Leo.

"I just feel," Nikki continued, "That I can't stop thinking about… what happened. It's there, all the time. Even when I want to think about something else, like when I am with… Anyway, I need to draw a line under everything that has happened and try to move on. But I can't do it alone."

Drained by her outburst of raw honesty, she dropped her head back against the sofa, but kept looking at Harry.

Looking back at her, he suddenly realised that she was expecting a response from him.

"Ah Nikki, that's good. Leo will be pleased, he was so worried about you and – "

Nikki cut him off. "But what do you think, Harry?"

"I think… that you will not have to manage this alone."

She shifted a little, so her body was turned fully towards him.

"I was hoping you would say that."

Before Harry realised what was happening, Nikki's mouth was on his. It was his turn to feel his heart race and his fingers tingle; the kiss was everything he could have wanted and at the same time, so much more. As her hands cradled the back of his head and tugged gently at his hair, his arms found their way behind her back and pulled her closer to him. For a few short moments, as their lips grazed each other, the world shrank and only contained the two of them. But of course, the moments were all too short. Nikki pulled away a few centimetres, but it might as well have been a few miles.

Harry could see uncertainty in the eyes that were downcast, not meeting his own. How could that be, when he had rarely been so certain about anything in his life?

"I'll clean up, shall I?" Without waiting for an answer, Nikki collected the empty plates and a few moments later, Harry could hear the clatter of pots and pans being collected for washing up.

As she left, he let out a deflated sigh. _"I may know you better than anyone, Nikki Alexander,"_ he thought, _"but you still have the power to truly surprise me."_


	14. Chapter 14

_Would love to hear your thoughts, all of you lovely people :)_

* * *

Why she had done it, she couldn't say. Of all the moments there had been between them, she didn't know why this had been the one where she had closed the gap between them and kissed her best friend.

 _But he's not just your best friend, is he?_

With a sigh, she had to admit that the voice in her head was right. Harry wasn't just her best friend. He was the man that she was willing to share anything with. The man she felt that she could always turn to and know that he would always be there for her.

Was she finally coming to her senses? She'd admitted to Leo once that she thought that she would eventually be with Harry. But if she had come to her senses, she wouldn't be in the kitchen, she would still be in the living room and still in Harry's arms.

 _You're scared,_ she thought to herself. And it was true. She was scared that, when all was said and done, Harry didn't love her in the way that she had come to love him.

Rocked by the realisation, she tried to push it out of her mind and carry on with the rinsing the plates from dinner. And yet, her insecurities lingered, whispering maliciously and making her regret every time she had shown Harry the slightest bit of affection.

 _He's just being nice because of what's happened; he's not in love with you._

It all made sense from her warped perspective; he was humouring her while she dealt with the aftermath of the fire, but in a few weeks or months, once everything was back to normal… the kiss would fade into nothingness and would be forgotten, by Harry at least. Never mind the fact that last time they had kissed, it had been etched into her mind for months and she could think of little else. Years later, she could still bring that warm pub to mind in an instant; the smell of their damp clothes and the feel of his lips and the stubble on his chin, the taste of the wine on both of their tongues and the crackling of the fire …

The memory of the fire brought her back to harsh reality. The washing up bowl was nearly overflowing with water and soapy bubbles.

Sure, Harry had been interested in her back then; he had kissed her, after all. But the distraction of the case had put a stop to anything that was between them, letting Harry's feeling fade. _Her_ feelings however, had done nothing of the sort. By kissing her, Harry had awoken something inside her that still burned, all those years later. Every little bickering argument and every hug, it all just added fuel to the fire. And then, moving in with Harry out of necessity, being so close to him all day every day, it had pushed her over the edge and forced her feelings into the cold light of day.

It was stupid to have kissed him, she told herself as she scrubbed the plates with a dish cloth. She resolved to pretend the kiss had never happened, keep her distance from Harry (as far as she could while they were in the same house) and try to move on.

And yet, as she placed the plates on the draining board and emptied the sink, she knew that her resolve could crumble in an instant, with just a single word from Harry.

-X-

As Nikki left the room, it was Harry's turn to sit in stunned silence. He tentatively ran a finger over his bottom lip.

It was no good, he realised, to pretend any longer that he thought of Nikki as a friend. She was everything to him, really. Too close, she had come to being lost to him. She could have been so seriously injured – killed even – in the fire, and where would he have been then? Left alone to finally realise, too late, that Nikki was everything. Sure, if you like slim blondes with gorgeous brown eyes and a love of high heels, she's beautiful to look at. But of course, there's her unwavering determination to stand up for the underdog, the quick intelligence that makes her so good at her job, how much she cares about those around her… it's all so much more.

And she had kissed him. _She,_ Nikki Alexander, had just kissed _him_. It hadn't been a joke or a mistake or a forgotten sleepy kiss. She had kissed him and it had been real.

So why was she in the kitchen, rather than still with him?

His head dropped to his chest and he let out a long breath. He didn't want this to be something that happened and they then moved past. So many times before, he and Nikki had been so close, but they had let the other slip away again. This time, he wanted things to be different. Maybe it was the proximity of having her in his house, or how close he had come to losing her. Whatever the reason, he couldn't let her go.

 _She's already gone,_ he thought. Although only in the next room, it seemed like an abyss or an ocean was between them. Was she scared he would hurt her? Was she just not ready? He knew that Nikki had a lot on her mind at that precise moment, but he was absolutely willing to wait for her, if that's what she needed or wanted.

But how could he tell her this? And how could he do it without breaking his own heart if he had completely misread her? He didn't know.

He did know, however, that that kiss would be haunting him for weeks. Every time he saw her, it would be all he could think about; his mind would be urging him to recreate it. He thought of the last time she had kissed him – did she even remember? Had she been aware enough to know that he had carried her to her bed and that she had grabbed him, pulling him to her for a kiss that he had been powerless to resist? Then, he had kept his distance until she was well enough, but the moment was never right. And then…

But not this time.

Just as he had made his determined decision, he heard Nikki leave the kitchen.

"I'm a little tired, Harry. I think I will go to bed," she said, with a half-smile in his direction.

"Alright. You know where I am if you need me," he replied.

Nikki started to make her way up the stairs, but Harry called to her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Nikki?"

She turned around, looking back and giving him a questioning look.

"Ah… it's nothing. Thank you for doing the dishes."

"You're welcome. Goodnight Harry," she said as she disappeared up the stairs out of sight.

"Coward," Harry muttered to himself as soon as he heard the door to the spare room close.

-X-

Half an hour later, Harry was still sitting and staring blankly at the television. He had only moved to fetch a beer, then a second, from the fridge. Still, the feeling of Nikki's lips on his filled his mind and the numbing effects of too much alcohol could not come soon enough. He had decided that he didn't want to think, for a moment longer, about Nikki. About how close they were, but yet how far. He needed to not think about her for a little while.

As he fetched the third bottle of beer, Harry's phone rang. It was Leo.

"How is Nikki?" the older man asked as soon as Harry picked up.

"A little better, she's gone to sleep already though. She has agreed to see a doctor," replied Harry, hoping to placate his boss quickly so he could continue drinking in peace.

"Good," said Leo. "That's all, Harry. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Harry said his goodbyes and hung up, throwing his phone onto the sofa as he sat down heavily. He took a long drink, cold liquid running down his throat. Between sips, he cradled the bottle in his hands and methodically peeled the label away from the glass, shredding it. It was an expression of his frustration. Frustration with himself, frustration with Nikki. Worst of all, frustration that despite his best efforts, he was still thinking of her.

He eventually headed to bed in the early hours of the morning, leaving the evidence of his emotional turmoil strewn across his coffee table.


	15. Chapter 15

_Again, life is crazy so this update was slower than planned. Hope you like it!_

* * *

Nikki had slept fitfully. She lay awake, waiting to hear Harry come to bed, tossing and turning until he did so in the early hours of the morning. Once asleep, she was troubled by memories of sights and smells and sounds, always bringing her back to the fire. More than once, she awoke trembling, but daren't wake Harry.

When the early morning sun began to filter through the curtains, she gave up trying to go back to sleep. Quietly as she could, she padded down the stairs. Her footsteps were muffled by socks and carpets as she made herself a hot drink.

It was a shock to enter the living room and see the place littered with empty bottles. Was that why she hadn't heard Harry go to bed until so late? She collected the bottles, struggling to stop the glass chinking noisily as she tried to hold them all. Once the room was tidy, she opened the window, determined to freshen up the room and get rid of the stale, boozy smell that still lingered slightly. Coffee in hand, she settled on the sofa and enjoyed the chill of the morning. She must have soon dozed off, so comfortable was the sofa, because the next thing she knew was the bright sunny daylight hitting her face and the sound of Harry moving around upstairs, making quite a racket.

-X-

Harry woke late the next morning. He was alone in his bed and his head was pounding. With a groan, he rolled over and glanced at the digital clock by his bed. Nine fifty-seven. He gave another groan when he realised the time, knowing that Nikki would likely already be awake. His feet hit the ground as he swung himself upright, all of his body complaining; he wanted to retreat under the duvet. Ignoring his protesting limbs he slumped into the bathroom and switched on the shower, clumsily knocking over a shampoo bottle. He tried to curb his frustration as he replaced it and stepped into the shower spray.

 _She kissed you, then you got drunk alone, and now you are hungover and grumpy. Well done, Harry._

His aggression manifested as he scrubbed himself furiously; drinking was a poor way to handle the situation and he knew it. Why he hadn't talked to Nikki, called her back to him when he had the chance, he didn't know. But being honest with Nikki about his feelings had always been both the easiest and hardest thing for him to do, so he couldn't really be surprised when he found himself unable to do so when the stakes were so high.

Finally clean, he toweled himself off and dressed. He was unsurprised to find Nikki already downstairs.

"Morning Nikki," he greeted as she turned to face him. "Aren't you cold?" He noted the open window and felt a chill despite his jumper; Nikki was wearing only a t-shirt.

"I'll make you a drink," replied Nikki, avoiding his question and leaving Harry standing alone in the living room. After a moment, he followed her towards the kitchen and stood on the threshold. She appeared wary and evasive towards him, as if she were trying to avoid him whilst still being in the same room. When she passed him the coffee cup, she was careful to make sure their fingers didn't touch.

"I need to borrow your phone, Harry. To make an appointment with the doctor," she said.

He obliged, handing Nikki his mobile and she turned away to make the call.

As she listened to the automated message on the phones of her local medical centre, Nikki thought about Harry. He had been with her for all of two minutes that morning, but seemed distant and irritated, thus confirming all Nikki's doubts.

"Heywood Health Centre, how can I help you?"

 _Harry was probably upset that I kissed him._

"Hi there, my name is Nikki Alexander. I'd like to make an appointment."

 _Maybe he is getting sick of having me around all the time._

"How urgent is the appointment, Miss Alexander?"

 _Perhaps I should find somewhere else to stay?_

"As soon as you can, please."

 _Leo has a spare room… if not, a hotel?_

"I'm afraid we don't have anything for another week, unless it's truly urgent. If you feel it is an urgent problem, then we might be able to fit you in tomorrow?"

Nikki paused, leaving her problems with Harry to one side while she wondered if she needed to be seen urgently. In her hesitation, the receptionist spoke again.

"Oh! You've recently been in hospital, on intensive care! We can fit you in tomorrow, Miss Alexander. Is eleven fifteen okay for you?"

Nikki was taken aback, but glad to be sped through the system.

"Er, yes. That sounds fine, thank you."

The conversation over, Nikki hung up and turned, surprised to see that Harry was still behind her, watching her intently.

"Harry! You made me jump."

His mouth twitched. "Sorry. I didn't mean to." Still, he didn't take his eyes off her. "Are you okay, Nikki? You don't seem yourself this morning?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine. It's just… everything. You know?"

Harry nodded, wearily. He hoped she would let him pull her in for a hug, but the fact she hadn't let him touch her yet that morning made him doubt that she would.

"Can we go out?" she began. "I've got my bank documents and ID and things now."

Harry recalled the file that she had been carrying yesterday, that she had left on the side by his front door before breaking down.

"I need to go to the bank and sort out insurance and about a hundred other things. Then get some clothes of my own, I suppose. And start looking for somewhere to live…" She trailed off.

"You don't need to look for somewhere to live, Nikki. You can stay as long as you need."

"I feel like I'm being a burden. Like I'm annoying you somehow…" she admitted.

Harry almost laughed. "A burden? Oh Nikki, far from it! You can be annoying though…" He hoped that she would see that he was joking with her, but she didn't react at all. "I mean it though, there's no rush at all. I like having you here."

"Okay," she agreed, though she didn't quite believe that Harry didn't mind her being around. "We still need to go out for the other things though."

"Of course, we can go as soon as you're ready."

Again, Harry was left confused as Nikki left the room. What had he done to make her think he wanted her to move out?

A few minutes later, they were in the car.

"So, all your clothes were damaged?" he questioned, cautiously. He wanted to know the extent of destruction at her home, but didn't want to upset her with questions.

"Yes," she murmured. "They weren't burned, but the whole room was damaged by the smoke. Even if I washed them, I don't think that they would ever stop smelling of fire. I couldn't manage that. It's just easier to get some new things."

"That's a shame," replied Harry, trying not to let her dwell on the previous day's events. "Though you'll forgive me if I don't trail around after you in the women's department for hours?"

That time, she almost smiled. "I won't subject you to that, don't worry."

-X-

When he arrived at the Lyell Centre that morning, Leo was surprised to be greeted by Michael Andrews and DI Johnson.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?" Leo said, shaking both their hands.

"The previous arson case that we had on file, Professor Dalton. I have had a quick look over it but I think we all need to discuss it." Andrews looked grave as he spoke.

The trio were soon set up in the conference room, with evidence from their current cases adorning the walls. Andrews began to describe the case, reading from the file he laid upon the table.

"The victim was a woman, Annabelle Huntington. She was 33, single and lived alone. The fire started in her flat and decimated the whole place, occurring in March of last year. There were multiple start points so arson was always on the cards, right from the start. Ms Huntington was woken by the smoke alarm, but as she only had one working alarm in the flat rather than two, the fire had taken quite a hold by that point. She was very severely burned as she tried to leave the flat; unfortunately, her clothes caught fire."

Andrews paused, allowing the horror of the case he was sharing to sink in. Leo rubbed a hand over his face, while DI Johnson shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"The cases, as you have heard, are very similar. There were multiple points from which the fire originated in all three arsons. Also in all three, a candle on a pile of newspapers was the method used to start the fire. No accelerants were used in any case; they weren't needed with a fire starting in multiple locations. However, there is a more striking similarity."

Andrews then fetched from inside the file three photos printed on A4 paper.

"Melanie Cooper," he spoke softly as he pinned the first of those on the wall. The photo was an enlargement of a photo that had been circulated in the newspapers when the fire had been reported.

"Nikki Alexander."

Again, he pinned a picture on the wall. The face was, of course, familiar to all three men in the room.

"Finally, Annabelle Huntington."

Only when the third photo was visible did Leo understand what Andrews was trying to show. All three women were of a similar age, similar build, and – crucially – similar in face. The blonde hair and brown eyes that smiled from Annabelle Huntington's picture could easily have been that of Nikki.

The detective inspector was the first to break the silence that had fallen. "The bastard certainly has a type."

-X-

Nearly three hours after he had left her to her shopping, Harry saw Nikki approaching the café where they had agreed to meet. She was laden with multiple shopping bags; she seemed to have visited every shop on the high street. Her face was flushed and she looked tired as she saw Harry look up from his newspaper and wave to her.

"Did you get everything you need?" asked Harry incredulously, eyeing the countless bags that surrounded Nikki as she sat down.

"I think so. I have clothes, toiletries, a phone, a bag, underwear, shoes, a debit card, an application for a replacement driving license…"

Harry listened in amazement at the list of things that Nikki had needed.

"… so yes, I think I have everything," she finished. "Except for a coffee." She looked at Harry expectantly.

"I'm buying, am I?"

He shook his head as he stood up, acting exasperated; in reality he was just glad that the past few hours had seemed to bring back a little of the old Nikki.

The café was packed and it took Harry a little while to make his way to the counter to be served. In the meantime, Nikki sat alone outside and flicked through the newspaper that Harry had left on the table. As she read, a man approached her.

"'Scuse me, miss. Do you have a light?"

She looked up into the face of a man who appeared to be around 20. He was holding a cigarette in his outstretched hand and wearing a hopeful expression.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't. I don't smoke," Nikki replied.

"Here, I've got one," called a voice from a nearby table.

Nikki tried to ignore it, but she could hear it; out of the corner of her eye, she could see the flicker of the small flame and the orange heat of the lit cigarette.

"Cheers mate," said the young man, who walked away without a thought, passing Nikki as he did so. The wisp of smoke hit her and suddenly, she felt the all-too-familiar sensation of panic hitting her as well.

By that point, she knew the drill well; the nausea and tingling fingers were becoming a part of the normal routine, the racing heart was old news. Taking a few deep breaths, Nikki was striving for the appearance of calm. This was the first time she had been hit with severe anxiety whilst in public, but it was accompanied by a sense of humiliation that she had not felt when having a breakdown in Harry's spare bedroom.

Harry's return with the coffees didn't come a moment too soon, and he knew as soon as he sat down that something was wrong.

"You alright?" he asked in a low voice.

Nikki nodded in reply, concentrating on keeping her breathing even.

"What happened?"

"Someone lit a cigarette," she hissed.

Harry nodded, reaching for her hand. From Nikki's reluctance to take it, he could tell that whatever awkwardness had been between them that morning still remained. However, she eventually relented, slipping her cold fingers between his warm ones. They waited silently for everything to pass, the world around them oblivious to the emotional turmoil taking place outside a nondescript coffee shop.

"Okay?" Harry asked, when he felt Nikki's grasp on his hand relax a little. The colour also started to return to her cheeks.

"Yes, thank you," Nikki replied, reaching for her coffee and taking a sip.

"Sure?"

She nodded in a way that clearly meant that that particular conversation was over.

Harry changed the subject, sharing an idea he had had whilst Nikki had been shopping.

"Do you fancy having a bit of a dinner party tonight? Just us and Leo and Janet."

"A dinner party?"

Harry laughed. "Yes, you know. Food, drink, nice conversation? Ringing any bells?"

"I know what a dinner party is, Harry. Isn't it a bit short notice?"

"Maybe, but Leo is up for it if you are."

"What were you thinking of cooking?" Nikki looked uneasy, but Harry had anticipated this.

"Roast chicken? And roast potatoes?" He lowered his voice again. "I thought it might be a bit easier for you if we could do most things in the oven."

Nikki let a small smile come to her face, genuinely touched that Harry had thought hard about how to make a dinner party easier for her.

"You are a really good friend, Harry. I hope you know that."


	16. Chapter 16

_Hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for the delay in publishing it!_

* * *

After returning from their shopping trip, Harry and Nikki were in the kitchen, preparing food in companionable silence. Nikki was preparing vegetables, cutting carrots into neat matchsticks, and Harry was arranging potatoes on a tray, ready for roasting.

The doorbell soon cut through the silence.

"Ah, that'll be Leo and Janet," said Harry. "Do you mind?"

"Sure," Nikki replied as she left the kitchen, careful to not even brush against Harry as she passed him.

Harry used the time to quickly place the potatoes into the oven before following Nikki out of the kitchen, greeting Leo with a handshake and Janet with a kiss on the cheek. Once their greetings were exhausted, the small group made their way to Harry's living room.

"Beer, Leo?" Harry asked. "The fridge is fully stocked."

"Harry, I thought you'd never ask!"

"Anything for either of you?" Harry asked Janet and Nikki as he stood, but both shook their heads.

As the two men left and headed for the kitchen, Janet moved to sit beside Nikki on the sofa. The look she was giving Nikki was caring, maternal even; evidently, Janet was nearly as worried about Nikki as Leo was.

"I'm sorry to do this to you this evening. We're supposed to be having fun, but I have to know. Are you okay, Nikki?" began Janet, her voice low.

Nikki gave a wry smile. "Leo's told you everything, I presume?"

"Of course. I would rather hear it from you though."

Though Nikki and Janet were not the closest of friends, Nikki felt a compulsion to be totally honest with Janet about how she was feeling. There was something about Janet, the way that she always gave her full attention when listening and never interrupted, that made that made people want to tell her their deepest thoughts.

"I've been better," admitted Nikki. "It's up and down. Sometimes I am okay, but the fire is on my mind nearly all the time, always there in the background. Once or twice, I think that it's gone, but then suddenly something will take me right back there."

"And you've been having panic attacks?"

Reluctantly, Nikki spoke. "A fair few, yes. They are always caused by the stupidest things. Today, it was a lit cigarette! I can't live my life running away everyone lights up, can I?"

"Oh! I didn't realise that you were suffering this badly. Have you seen a doctor?"

Talking about her mental state was causing tears of embarrassment to start to prickle in Nikki's eyes. "I have an appointment tomorrow. I'm scared they will put me on medication again, but I honestly don't know what else I can do." She sniffed and looked up, trying to stop the tears spilling over.

Janet laid a hand on Nikki's arm, her expression presenting nothing but sympathy (and certainly not pity). Slowly, Nikki managed to collect herself, mouthing the word 'sorry' to Janet.

"There's no need to apologise, Nikki. No one thinks any less of you for it; just feel whatever you feel."

"Don't they? It just feels so pathetic to be in this state all of the time."

"It's not pathetic at all. I think we'd all be more worried if you weren't a little shaken up by all this."

"But what can I do, Janet? I just want to feel like myself again."

"Have you talked about it? Told Harry everything that you remember? Or how you are feeling now?"

Nikki squirmed a little under Janet's watchful gaze. At the mention of Harry, Nikki felt sure that there would be a subtle change in her face that showed her feelings about her colleague to the outside world and that if anyone was going to spot it, it would be Janet.

"We've spoken about it a little. It's difficult to put into words."

"You'll have to tell the doctor about it tomorrow; maybe it will come easier after that?"

"Perhaps."

"You might benefit from some formal talking therapies as well, Nikki. Or perhaps some desensitisation therapy, to help you get used to being around the things that lead to an anxiety attack."

"You mean, if I repeatedly light a match and just let the panic attack happen, eventually my brain will get bored of responding to the flame and I will start to get over all of this?"

"Essentially, that's right. In a controlled environment, it's an effective treatment for some phobias."

Nikki didn't speak for a few minutes after that, clearly lost in thought, as if something Janet said had struck a chord. Janet excused herself, wanting to check on the progress of dinner and joking that she didn't even know that Harry could cook.

Meanwhile, Nikki headed to the bathroom. After Janet's interrogation – for an interrogation it had been, no matter how gently Janet had been questioning – Nikki felt tired and drained, but all too soon she heard Harry call her down to the dinner table. Forcing a smile onto her face, she readied herself to leave the bathroom and steeled herself up for the meal ahead. As she did so, she heard hurried footsteps coming up the stairs and quickly opened the door.

-X-

While Nikki and Janet had been talking in the living room, Leo and Harry had headed to the kitchen. Moments after their beers were opened, Leo asked Harry the same question that Janet asked Leo.

"How is she?"

Harry shrugged. "She has good moments and bad moments."

"That's certainly understandable."

Both took a sip of their beers.

"Andrews and Johnson think they have found another arson victim. The fire was over a year ago but the story is the same; a fire with multiple origins, occurring in the middle of the night, the victim being a lone woman in her 30s, it all fits."

"So they think this guy has been at it a while." Harry began picking absently at his beer label, the paper softening with the condensation.

"It gets worse though, Harry. This is a picture of the first possible victim, from before the fire. She survived but safe to say that she does not look like that anymore."

Leo handed Harry his phone, which was displaying the photo of Annabelle Huntington that he had seen earlier that day.

Harry spotted the similarity to Nikki immediately. "Jesus! They could be sisters!"

Harry's empty hand balled into a tight fist at his side, anger burning inside him hot and fierce. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself, while Leo watched his friend with a worried expression.

"What do you know about her, Leo?" Harry asked, once he was calmer.

"Almost nothing," the older man replied. "I am going to meet with her tomorrow."

"You just know that Nikki will want to meet her, as soon as I tell her about this."

"I know," replied Leo. Both men raised their beer bottles to their lips, sipping in near-unison, as they thought about the extraordinary compassion that Nikki had been known to show.

"She kissed me last night." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry wondered why he had said it.

Leo was incredulous. "She… what? Nikki?"

"I know," said Harry, Leo's surprised expression likely mirroring his own from the previous night.

"What happened next? What did you say?" Leo tried to keep his voice steady, but he was reeling from Harry's revelation.

"Nothing. Nikki left to go to bed and I got drunk. We are both useless, aren't we?" It was impossible to miss the slight slump of Harry's shoulders as he looked at his friend, judging his reaction.

"You are both useless. But I don't want either of you getting hurt, Harry."

 _It might be a little late for that_ , thought Harry to himself. The way Nikki had been pushing him away all day _had_ hurt. He gave no reply to Leo, merely took another deep swig of beer to finish the bottle.

Leo spoke again, attempting to offer some words of comfort or guidance, but suspecting that anything he said would fall short.

"The pair of you will sort this out, I know it Harry."

Leo placed a hand paternally on Harry's shoulder.

"I guess you're right," Harry said, though he didn't seem sure of his words. "Now, shall I get this chicken out? Dinner is nearly ready to be served."

"I'll get Nikki and Janet, shall I?"

Leo left Harry to manage the roast dinner in the kitchen, and headed to the living room to find Janet sitting alone.

"Dinner's almost ready. Where's Nikki?" Leo asked, stepping forward to kiss Janet on the cheek as she stood.

"She just went to the bathroom. She's been better, but I think she is doing well considering," replied Janet, answering the unasked question. "She says that she's going to see a doctor tomorrow morning and we talked about counselling and how therapies can help with phobias, that kind of thing. She's on the right track, Leo."

The pair headed to the dining table and sat down, murmuring appreciatively with each and every plate that Harry laid carefully on the table.

"Did you say Nikki was in the bathroom, Janet?" Harry asked when the table was all set, not allowing even the smallest hint of concern to slip into his tone.

"She went up there a few minutes ago, yes. Shall I get her?"

"Don't worry, Janet. I'll fetch her. If Leo doesn't mind carving the chicken, that is?"

A moment later, Harry was heading up the stairs, taking them two at the time as soon as he was out of Leo and Janet's sight. However, as soon as he reached the top of the stairs, the bathroom door opened with a click.

"Ah, Nikki," he said. "I just came to find you, dinner is ready."

She nodded, saying nothing.

"Are you okay?"

He stared into her eyes, his gaze intense and almost daring her to lie.

She nodded again. "I was just freshening up."

"I was worried about you," he said, his eyes still holding on to hers as he stepped a little closer to her.

"You always seem to be worrying about me these days," said Nikki, forcing a humourless smile to her face. Harry did not return the expression.

"I find it hard not to worry about you when I know you are unhappy," he murmured.

Nikki's heart thudded heavily in her chest and the pair stared at each other for a long moment, before Harry broke the tension.

"Come on, Janet and Leo will be wondering what we're up to."

He guided her towards the stairs, a hand gently rest in on the small of her back and brushing the skin that was revealed between her shirt and her jeans. They emerged downstairs and took their places at the table.

"Wine?" offered Harry, picking up the corkscrew and getting to work on opening the bottle. Glasses poured for Janet and Leo, who sipped appreciatively, he then turned to Nikki. "A drink?"

Nikki contemplated. "I will have one, thank you Harry."

Harry obliged, pouring Nikki's glass, then emptying the bottle into his own.

"One bottle for the four of us," he began, raising his glass. "Thank goodness there aren't more of us! Cheers everyone!"

The musical chink of glasses rang out as the four toasted, before the group fell silent in appreciation of the food.

Throughout the meal, Harry chatted with Janet and Leo, while Nikki was quiet. Not that she wasn't enjoying the food or the company, but she just was happier to listen than to speak for most of the evening. She laughed at Leo's anecdotes and even joined in with some of Harry's jokes.

"Did you hear the one about the cannibal who came home late? His wife gave him the cold shoulder!" Harry delivered the line, causing giggles around the table.

"Did you hear the one about the constipated mathematician?" asked Leo, grinning. "He worked it out with a pencil!"

"Did you hear the one about the pizza?" added Nikki, pausing for effect. "Actually, never mind. It's far too cheesy!"

She glanced at Harry as he laughed, who was overjoyed that the dinner party had seemed to have worked as planned. Surprised with herself, she found that she was smiling back at him.

Across the table, Janet and Leo gave each other knowing glances.

A few hours later, all were full of food and all aside from Nikki were a little tipsy. A taxi was called for Leo and Janet, who walked to the door whilst thanking Harry loudly for the dinner. Janet hugged both Harry and Nikki, whispering in Nikki's ear as she did so.

"We're here for you if you need us. Just call Nikki, but you're doing brilliantly."

"Thank you," Nikki whispered back. There was no threat of tears of sadness; just an overwhelming wave of gratitude to her friends.

The front door closed, shutting out the cold night, and Harry and Nikki sat together in the living room. Harry had fetched another drink, and brought the whiskey bottle with him and sat it on the coffee table, while Nikki sat with her feet curled under her and her arms wrapped around herself.

Harry glanced at her. "Are you alright?"

"Of course. Sorry, I'm just a little emotional because I'm so… thankful to you. And Leo and Janet, all of you. The things you do for me. I'm lucky to have such good friends. Especially you, Harry."

As she spoke, Harry took a mouthful of whiskey, wincing as the liquid burned deliciously. Something in what she had said had stung him and his next words were frosty. "Good friends, Nikki? After all this, you say we are good friends?"

Nikki was taken aback and was disappointed that somehow the previously happy atmosphere had taken a cold turn. "What do you mean? Of course we are good friends, Harry. You might even be my best friend. And for that, I am more grateful than I can say." Wary, she knew that the conversation could take a dangerous turn towards emotions best left unspoken, so spoke carefully.

"None of my other friends leave me praying to a God I don't believe in. Not like you do." He swallowed another mouthful, emptying his glass, but instantly reached for the bottle to refill it. "I thought you were dead when the hospital called me."

Harry was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Oh Harry," Nikki murmured, looking at him sadly. It was the first that he had told her about the anguish that he had felt during the few days that she had spent unconscious.

"I was so scared. I thought that we had… I don't know. Run out of time?"

"I know how that feels, Harry. Don't ever forget that."

A chill silence fell over both of them as they struggled to come to terms with recent horrors that had befallen them. They sat, still and quiet. Some minutes later, Harry shattered the silence with a few hoarse words.

"Last night, you kissed me."

The room became electric. Nikki shivered and felt the tiny hairs on her skin stand up.

"What?"

"You kissed me Nikki. We both know it, so please do not deny it." Harry still had not turned to look at Nikki, so could not see her face to gauge her reaction to what he said. "You sat right there and you kissed me. And then you ran off. All day you've been running away and you have not been yourself. I wish I knew why. And I really wish you'd do it again. I wish you would kiss me again, that's all."

The silence was deafening and the weight of what Harry had said hung heavily in the air between them. Harry sat, frustrated. His whiskey-addled mind didn't know what he had hoped to gain by drunkenly begging his _good friend_ to kiss him. Risking a glance at her, he saw that Nikki was outwardly unchanged by everything he had said, but he was not to know what was going on inside her head. Her mind raced, replaying the last two minutes over and over and over. Things had been said that she hardly dared to believe. For the first time since the fire had happened, she found that it was not on her mind. Harry had done that – Harry had chased away her fears with a just a few words, and with them he had removed her resolve and her reason to get over him. However, Nikki's lack of response worried Harry.

"If you aren't going to say anything, I am going to bed."

With that, he stood and walked to the kitchen without a backward glance at Nikki. She barely had time to open her mouth to begin protesting before she heard a crash and a shout as Harry swore loudly. Nikki rushed to the kitchen, to find that Harry had stumbled and smashed his glass in the process. The alcohol had made him clumsy as well as honest.

"Oh Harry, stay there. Let me clean this up."

The shattered glass took Nikki momentarily back to the night of the fire. She had a sudden recollection of dropping a glass as the fire alarm had started to shriek. Taking a deep breath, she suppressed a shudder and got to work to tidy the mess away. Obediently, Harry stood still while she swept the floor, making sure that neither of them would find glass shards sticking painfully into the bottom of their feet. As she cleaned, she noticed two small drops of blood.

"Are you hurt, Harry?"

He looked at his hands, a bemused expression on his face, as if he had forgotten he had them. They could both see a small cut on one of the fingers on his right hand. The glass taken care of, Nikki took his hand gently and ran it under the tap.

"It doesn't look very deep, you're okay. Do you have any plasters?"

"Bathroom cabinet," Harry mumbled, grimacing as he gingerly moved the bleeding finger.

Moments later, Nikki returned with a small first aid kit. She dabbed the blood away and placed a small plaster over the wound. She could not resist the urge to lean down and place her lips on the plaster, giving Harry's finger a small kiss.

"I think we should both go to bed, Harry. Before you do any more damage."

He was powerless to disagree; the action of her treating his wounds and kissing his finger so tenderly and gently had robbed him of the ability to protest, so he allowed her to lead him to his bed.

Once Harry was safely under the covers, Nikki headed to the bathroom to clean her teeth. By the time she returned, he was sound asleep and softly snoring. Surprised at her nerve, she climbed into bed beside him. His presence was warm and comforting, and Nikki was content to lie beside him, not even touching him. At least, until Harry rolled over in his sleep, throwing an arm across her middle. Unconsciously, he seemed to pull her towards him until they were cuddled tightly together, and she was sure that she heard him utter a single word as he buried his face in her hair.

"Nikki."


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you, as always, for your lovely comments and thank you to everyone who is reading/has this on alert/has this on their favourites. I hope you're enjoying and you enjoy this one, in all its glorious angst :)_

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With a jolt, Nikki awoke.

She was sitting bolt upright in the bed, her heart racing as it pounded away in her chest. The slight memory of the smell of smoke from her nightmares still lingered as she took a few steadying breaths.

It was then that she realised where she was. It was not the clean nothingness of the spare room that she could smell, but the unmistakable scent of having slept next to a man.

Harry.

She gave a small smile as she looked over at him. In his sleep, he had turned onto his front, his face towards the other side of the bed. His hand still reached towards her. Her smile grew wider as she remembered the previous night. Harry, drunk on whiskey, had asked her to kiss him again. Then, he had fallen asleep, with lips in her hair and an arm around her. It all seemed too good to be true, and yet there she was, still in that bed.

Although a big part of her wanted to lie down again, and maybe touch Harry's scruffy bed hair, a larger part of her wanted to cool down and fetch something to drink. It was by majority vote then that she soon found herself padding quietly down the stairs to the kitchen and fetching a glass from the cupboard. As she did so, a small box fell out and landed on the floor by her feet. She automatically bent down to pick it up, but dropped it again in shock as soon as she realised what it was.

 _Matches._

Her mind clouded, full of a smokey fog, as panic threatened to take over. Matches mean fire which means smoke which means pain and fear and death. Quickly, she picked up the small box, threw it into the cupboard, and turned the cold tap on. Within seconds, it was cold enough to numb the tips of her fingers and when she drank, her teeth ached.

Icy cold water was the best antidote and soon the glass was finished; Nikki felt better and the matches were almost forgotten. She was half way up the stairs when an idea came to her. A word that had been mentioned the previous night, something Janet had said.

 _Desensitisation._

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she was on her way back to the kitchen and to the matches. It was such a small box, she noticed as she set it down on the counter. Her hands had shaken and a small rattle was audible. There were some matches left and she knew what had to be done.

Tentatively, she opened the box. There they were, slim wooden sticks with a dark bulge at one end. Since when could something so small inspire so much fear in her. Gradually, her breathing had become more laboured and her rib cage felt like a tight prison for her chest. With trembling fingers and some difficulty, she pulled a single match from the box and set it on the counter.

The box and the match lay next to each other, neat and parallel. Nikki stared at them for what felt like an eternity. Almost every part of her was screaming to put the matches away and forget the whole thing, and that there must be a better way than this masochism.

And yet…

For a moment, fierce determination shot through her. She was angry – with whoever had done this to her and with herself – and her anger gave her the strength to pick up the match and forcefully strike it.

The match had been lit for less than a second, but that was enough. Though she knew it was coming, the panic was no less real to Nikki. She dropped the match, which went out before it even hit the floor. Unsteady legs collapsed below her and she found herself on the ground, struggling to breathe or think. The cool tile was soothing, but not nearly enough to calm her. Irrationally, she began to cry. The fear that she was fighting was not about to let up and it hurt her to think that she could not stand up for herself.

Her whole body shook as she pushed herself to her feet, her clammy hands nearly slipping on the smooth floor. The box of matches was exactly where she had left it, tidily placed on the counter at perfect right angles.

Again, Nikki opened the box and took a match. As she tried to strike it, her grip was too weak and it slipped from her fingers. A sob escaped from her then, as helplessness threatened to swallow her up. She could still smell the smoke from the previous match, that had been extinguished as soon as it was lit.

 _Once more_ , she thought to herself. _Try once more, and if you can't do this, you can pretend it never happened and go back to bed._

Her hold on the match was a little stronger, as was the effort she put into dragging the match against the box. A familiar burst of flickering light washed over Nikki, illuminating her face in yellow light. The initial spark was no less shocking than the first time and she nearly lost her grip on the flame again. After just about managing to keep the small wooden stick clutched in her fingers, she still felt the all-too-familiar tightness in her chest, the sickly feeling in her stomach and the panicked thoughts that crossed her mind unchecked. But holding the flame in her hands, under her control, made it easier.

After a few long moments of watching the flame burn, she let that match too fall to the floor. It quickly burned out and Nikki breathed a sigh of relief, then reached for the box again. What followed was a frenzy of lit matches, each one dropping from Nikki's hand to extinguish on the tiled floor and before she knew it, the match box was empty.

Breathing as if she had been winded, Nikki stared at the floor, where matches were haphazardly strewn around her. It was hard for her to believe that she had done what she had done; even faced with the evidence before her, it was impossible to accept that she was capable of holding a lit match. The very idea of having a naked flame so close to her bare skin had literally been the stuff of nightmares not ten minutes before, but she had lit ten, perhaps fifteen, matches. Such a small task for most people, but for Nikki it represented the first step towards beating her psychological demons. All of the fear and the panic were still there; she was still gasping for air. But

Her eyes darted around the room, desperate to claw back another portion of her sanity by fighting another fear: _the hob._

With a familiar hiss as the gas was released, then the harsh click of the ignition, and finally the whoosh as the gas ignited, the hob too was lit. Again – hiss, click, whoosh – she lit it, and again. Over and over, the flame burst to life and was instantly extinguished, round and around and around.

Nikki couldn't have been out of bed for more than a quarter of an hour, but it had been fifteen minutes of torture; every match lit and every time the hob sprang to life was a terrible blow to her already fragile emotions. Of course, everyone must buckle eventually; eventually Nikki did. Her hand, cold and clammy, stopped igniting the hob and her knees bent, so she slid to the floor. She sat amongst the matches and didn't care that she was shivering, bare foot and cross legged like a child.

"Did it help?" she wondered aloud. Did it help, exposing herself to flames like Janet had said? In the aftermath, it felt like she exposed herself to a prolonged anxiety attack for nothing; her fears of being engulfed by smoke, of feeling her skin blister and burn, were still very present in her mind.

"Nikki?"

All of a sudden, Harry was in front of her. He knelt down to the floor so that they could be on the same level.

"What have you been doing, Nikki?"

The words stuck in her throat as she tried to explain.

"Janet… Janet said that if I expose myself to what is scaring me… eventually I won't be scared of it anymore."

"So you did this?" Harry cast his eyes around at the discarded matches that littered his kitchen floor.

"I can light the hob now," she replied, barely a whisper.

Harry was taken aback, a little confused in the early morning. "You can… what? You lit the hob?"

Without a word, Nikki stood and showed Harry what she could do. _Hiss, click, whoosh._

The dark kitchen was illuminated by the small flames, and Harry could see them reflected in Nikki's eyes as he stood up beside her. He could tell that she was still scared, still hurting. What had she put herself through, while he had been sleeping?

He closed his warm hand over her smaller one, the hand that was still holding the switch that controlled the flame. Slowly, he turned it, letting the flame die and darkness fall once more.

"Oh Nikki," he muttered, pulling her towards him. He pressed his lips to her temple and let them linger there, an ongoing tender kiss, as they stood unmoving in the dark.

"Come back to bed," he said, a few moments later.


	18. Chapter 18

_Alright, sportsfans. Tomorrow is the biggest exam of my life so far (so I am on at gone 11pm?) but I wanted to share this chapter with you and dedicate it to dinabar. Last time I had an exam she reviewed this story and gave me this tip: "Hope this works to keep you calm for the exam... Just imagine a Leo hand on your shoulder telling you to breathe and you'll be fine." It's so true and I will be imagining exactly that tomorrow! Thank you all for reading/reviewing, hope you enjoy :)_

* * *

It was a dreary morning when Leo approached the psychiatric wing of the hospital. The last time he had been to that hospital, he had been visiting Nikki in the intensive care unit. This visit promised to be no less awful; he had arranged a meeting with Annabelle Huntington's psychiatrist, and hoped that he would be introduced to her.

Leo had agreed to meet with the psychiatrist, Dr Randall, in the reception of the hospital and would recognise him by the dark leather briefcase. He glanced around, expecting to see a bearded older man who looked somewhat similar to Sigmund Freud. However, the only other person that he could see was a slight woman with black curly hair and coffee coloured skin.

"Excuse me," Leo asked, approaching her. "I'm looking for a Dr Randall, a consultant psychiatrist that I am supposed to be meeting with today."

"That's me!" replied the woman brightly. "Dr Emily Randall. You must be Professor Dalton?"

Leo was a little taken aback but held out his hand to shake hers. When she stood, he had noticed her briefcase, which was as the psychiatrist's secretary had described.

Dr Randall motioned for him to follow her and she set off along a corridor, briefcase and long ponytail swinging as she strode along; a pair of smart high heeled shoes clicked with each step. As soon as they turned a corner and stepped through a door marked "Staff Only", she began speaking. "You are hoping to meet with Annabelle Huntington? My secretary didn't fully explain why."

"I understand that she was involved in a fire. I have been assisting with a case involving two similar fires and we have reason to believe that all three fires are linked. Unfortunately, one of my colleagues was also involved in one of these fires, but thankfully was not seriously injured. I would like to ask Ms Huntington a few questions and see if any information she can give me can help me find any new leads in the current cases."

Dr Randall nodded thoughtfully. "I will do my best, but I can't promise anything I'm afraid, Professor Dalton. I have been working with Annie for over a year now, the poor thing, and she isn't the easiest person to cope with. Understandable of course, given everything but if it is a bad day for her, there's no hope of her cooperating. I usually try not to pity my patients, but Annie has really been through it and it is hard not to."

Leo was taking a liking to the fast-talking honesty of Dr Randall.

"It's been a rough ride for her. As well as the ongoing psychological impact of the fire itself, Annie was quite severely burned. I'm warning you now, if you have only seen a picture of her before the fire, you will not recognise her at all. And Professor, try not to stare?"

Leo nodded. Surely he could be trusted to have more tact than that?

"Wait here," Dr Randall continued as she showed Leo into a staffroom. "I will come and fetch you once I have checked that Annie is happy to speak with you. Help yourself to something to drink while you wait."

Leo nodded again, but Dr Randall had already left. He glanced around the room, taking in the dustings of instant coffee and damp tea bags that littered the counter. It reminded him of every staff room that he had ever visited, all those years ago during medical school and as a junior doctor taking his first steps on the ward. That was before he had found his career in pathology. Dirty cups were piled in the sink and he inspected each one, choosing the one with the least grime around the bottom and rinsed it, before making a cup of dubious cup of coffee and spending five minutes inspecting each milk bottle in the fridge, hoping to find one that wasn't marked with the words "HANDS OFF!" in black sharpie. That said, it was strangely enjoyable to be back in this almost-forgotten environment.

Sitting down on a lumpy sofa, he fished his phone from his jacket pocket. A message awaited him; it was from Harry.

 _Taking N to the doctors, let me know how it goes with the psychiatrist_

He had tipped Harry off that he was meeting with Annabelle Huntington, so that Harry could tell Nikki about it later. That said, he wouldn't have put it past Harry to keep something like that a secret from her, as if wrapping her in a blanket of ignorance would keep away her demons.

Leo took a sip from the coffee and grimaced. He had lost the lottery with the milk, it seemed, and had chosen a bottle that was past its prime. The only option was to abandon the drink, letting it swill down the sink, and place the cup in the stack of unwashed crockery. He would normally just wash it up, but there was so much washing up to do that washing one cup would be tantamount to using a bucket of water to drain an ocean.

The bookshelf on the wall was an ample distraction from the grimy room, and he enjoyed perusing the titles of the weighty tomes that lined the small space. He was pulling a particularly heavy volume from the shelf (The Encyclopaedia of Evolutionary Psychological Science) when Dr Randall returned.

"Annie has agreed to see you, Professor Dalton, if you will follow me?"

Leo quickly heaved the book back into place, rushing out of the room after Dr Randall – for such a small woman, she moved very fast.

They approached a door, behind which Leo could see a comfortable looking sofa, a low table, and a pot of real coffee.

"Professor Dalton, this is Annie Huntington."

Annie was sitting in a chair, positioned so that anyone walking past the open door would not be able to see her. Indeed, Leo did not realise she was there until he was inside the room and the door was closed behind him. He had been warned about what to expect, but nothing could have fully prepared him for the first sight of Annie.

The first shock was the bald head; skin was stretched tightly over a skull and almost shiny. Leo could see and name every lump and protuberance on the surface of the head. From behind, the head looked almost round, as there was barely anything left of the ears.

Leo began speaking, to greet her, but the words stuck in his through. Her appearance was so shocking that he struggled to speak. He coughed, to clear his throat, and tried again.

"Hello Ms Huntington. You can call me Leo."

"And you can call me Annie. You can stare, if you like. Everyone else does." The words came from a hole. It was not recognisable as a mouth, as there were no lips surrounding it, only scars. Like her ears, there was little left of her nose, which gave her face a strangely skeletal look. Leo then noticed the hand that she held out to him, and hastily shook it; the palm of her hand against his was sickeningly smooth.

Supressing a shudder, Leo sat on the sofa and turned his attention to the file he had been carrying with him that morning.

"Annie, I'm sure that Dr Randall has told you why I wanted to meet with you, but I'd like to give you my own version of events, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Annie replied, confidently. Her eyes darted quickly to the psychiatrist. Dr Randall was watching the exchange warily, hoping that Professor Dalton's talk of arson and fires and other victims would not lead down a path that ruined all the good work she and Annie had put in over the past year.

"A little under a week ago, a colleague of mine attended a crime scene. The crime scene was a house fire, in which one person perished. She was in her thirties, had blonde hair. That night, there was a fire at my colleague's flat. She is also in her thirties and is blonde. There were a few similarities between the fires themselves, too. Both started with multiple small fires, which are believed to have been started with candles and piles of paper. Annie, these fires are identical to the fire where you sustained all of these injuries, and these women are very similar to you. And now, I think that you can help us find the key to what is going on here."

Annie sat very still for a long, silent moment. Eyes closed, she was completely immobile and was even holding her breath. Leo waited, anxious that he was upsetting the woman that he had just met minutes before.

All of a sudden, the moment passed and Annie spoke.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dalton, about your colleague. Is she alright? I will help as much as I can."

Leo and Dr Randall exchanged relieved glances.

"Yes, Dr Alexander is fine. She was in hospital for a short while but is doing well now. And please call me Leo."

Annie didn't need to know that Nikki was suffering similar mental health problems to those that Annie had no doubt been facing.

"What would you like to know?"

"What do you remember from the fire at your flat? Anything you can tell me, any detail might be useful."

Annie nodded but appeared uncertain. "Truth be told, I can't quite tell what I remember as fact and what I have seen in nightmares and flashbacks. The mind has a strange way of distorting memories and I struggle to work out what is true when it comes to thinking about… that time."

"I understand. Take your time."

Annie swallowed, the muscles of her neck moving unpleasantly beneath the burned and stretched skin. She was clearly nervous under Leo's gentle, patient gaze, and may have been sweating if her scarred flesh had the capacity to do so.

"I think I remember waking up and not being able to see, there was so much smoke everywhere. And the alarm was ringing. A smoke alarm was ringing somewhere nearby, but not in my room. Not like it should have been. Then I tried to leave and there was fire everywhere. Outside my room, it was just fire. Just fire…" She trailed off and paused. "I'm sorry, I don't know how helpful I am being."

"What else do you remember? What happened next?" Leo prompted.

"I had to run through the fire. Then suddenly I was the fire as well. My clothes were burning, then my hair was burning, then I was burning. I can't tell you how I got out. I just did, somehow."

Dr Randall interrupted: "The medical notes say that Annie was conscious when she left the building and collapsed in the ambulance a few minutes later. After a long stay on intensive care and multiple surgeries, she was woken up. It was six months before she was discharged from hospital."

Annie nodded. She and Dr Randall had clearly discussed how much information she was happy to share before Leo arrived.

"Since then," Dr Randall continued, "Annie and I have been working on her anxiety and stress, which is all linked to the fire, and the self-esteem issues that arose from the extensive surgeries."

For the first time, Annie looked slightly ashamed of her scarred face, and Leo felt his heart break a little for her. Seeing Annie really hammered home how lucky Nikki had been; no matter how bad it gets, there's always someone who comes off worse.

"I don't really remember anything else," Annie said, her voice quieter and softer than before.

"Don't worry Annie. I only have one more question."

Leo opened the folder he had been holding, taking out a print out of the computer generated face of the man that Nikki had seen at the crime scene. Leo knew it was a long shot, but if there was any recognition or link between Annie and that man, the link between the three fires was secured.

"This image was generated from a description of a man who we think is involved in these fires somehow. We do not know who he is, but if you recognise him at all, we need to know."

Annie stared intently at the photo. Leo was anxious, hoping and praying that Annie was about to help him make a break through.

"Yes," she said, quietly.

Leo leant forward in his chair, not wanting to miss a single word.

"Yes, I know him. I dated him a while ago. We broke up a few months before the fire."

"What is his name, Annie?" Leo's voice was laced with desperation. This kind of information was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Annie was still looking at the photo, taking in the familiar face.

"Tell me this, Professor. Did he start these fires? Did he try to kill me?" Her voice was strained.

Leo gave a sigh. He had not wanted to upset Annie like this. "Honestly, I don't know. But he is the only lead we have at the moment, Annie. Please, what is his name?"

After a long exhale, she replied. "Peter. His name is Peter Sanders."

Leo's mind was racing. Finally, they had a name; a suspect!

"How did you know him, Annie?" he asked, in a voice that was deceptively calm.

"We dated. We were going to live together. It was all perfect, at first."

"And then?"

"He changed, you know? He was not the man I fell in love with. I couldn't move, couldn't think; he was constantly watching me. So clingy and obsessive. And his jealousy was awful."

Leo's mouth was dry, his excitement and interest in the potential for this information to break the case was so great. Could it have been a break up that spurred a spree of arson attacks? First against Annie, then later against physically similar women? Could it be that simple?

"It was about six months before the fire though, when we broke up. Why do you want to know about him?"

Leo knew, even before answering, that Annie understood fully why he was asking about the man in the picture; he knew that she knew that this man, that she had once loved, might have been responsible for her grotesque injuries. For the first time, the mask that she had courageously held in order to function was slipping. Dr Randall, who had been watching silently, saw the signs immediately.

"Professor Dalton, I think that will be all," she said.

Annie stood and started pacing in front of the sofa, wringing her hands all the while.

Uneasily, Leo stood. He had not wanted to upset Annie by coming to talk to her, but was glad to get such useful information. He began to thank Annie and Dr Randall, both profusely and hurriedly. It fell on deaf ears, however. Dr Randall was trying to calm Annie, who continued to stride restlessly up and down.

With a rushed promise to return, Leo left the room, his phone already out of his pocket. Supressing a groan of frustration as his call was not answered, he prepared to leave a message.

"DI Johnson? It's Leo Dalton. I have some information; I expect you will want to meet to discuss it immediately."


	19. Chapter 19

_To everyone still reading, I apologise for my slow updates. I wish I could promise to do better, but I love you all. In this chapter I deal with some issues that were raised in the episode "A Guilty Mind" that I did not think were handled well by the writers. This is my attempt to right their wrongs, as it were. Enjoy!_

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Dr Katie Douglas breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs Burton shuffled out of the consultation room. As sweet as she was, the lonely 88-year-old always made her heart sink. Mrs Burton came in every Friday, like clockwork, to talk about her cat and her grandson and anything else, other than her health. Of course, the old lady was lonely and just wanted to talk, but she was the kind of patient that every doctor dreaded. So it was with relief that she opened up the records for the next patient of the morning.

"Okay, Nicola Alexander, 34, rarely attends but has booked a double appointment? Discharge summary from the intensive care unit?"

As she scanned the letter that every doctor receives when one of their patients has had to have a stay in hospital, her eyes widened. Nothing about the next appointment was likely to be routine.

-X-

"Nicola Alexander?" The call sounded across the waiting room.

"Shall I come in with you?" asked Harry as Nikki stood, leaving her jacket on the seat beside him.

"I will be fine, Harry. The doctor will want to have a good look at me, I'm sure."

"Hmm," Harry replied, suppressing the urge to make a glib comment as she walked away.

"I won't be long," she said, over her shoulder, as Harry edged away from the child next to him, who was having a sneezing fit.

Nikki turned her attention to the doctor, a petite woman with short brown hair and glasses.

"This way," she smiled at Nikki, pointing into the consultation room. It was a room like many others, with a bed, a desk and a few chairs. The walls were adorned with pictures of cherub-like children and drawings in multi-coloured crayons.

"Now," began Dr Douglas as she sat down and indicated that Nikki did the same. "My name is Katie Douglas. We've not met before, Nicola?"

"No, I don't often have reason to come. And I usually go by Nikki."

"Of course. What has brought you to see me today, Nikki?" Pleasantries dealt with, the doctor sat back, giving her patient space to tell her tale.

"It's a fairly long story really," Nikki began, her tone casual and off-hand. "Last week, I was involved in a house fire. I was in hospital for a few days, in intensive care on a ventilator, because they thought I might have suffered airway burns. The doctors all said that my blood gases were good and that my chest x-ray was clear and that I had gotten off lightly."

The doctor nodded but did not speak, suspecting correctly that there was more to the story than any physical injuries.

"But when I was discharged, I started having these nightmares and flashbacks, it feels like I can't think of anything but the fire, it's always there, in my mind. Everyone says I was so lucky, but I really don't feel it!"

By that point, Nikki's voice was approaching hysterical. A tissue was wordlessly offered, which Nikki accepted gratefully. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose before taking a few shuddering breaths. Patiently, Dr Douglas gave her space for her emotions to spill over, waiting for Nikki to return to a state of calm.

"That's a really awful thing to have happen to you," she began. "I'm so sorry to hear about all of this. There are quite a few issues we need to address, aren't there? Is it okay if we discuss the physical symptoms first, then we can start to address how you are feeling?"

Nikki nodded tearfully and allowed the doctor to ask a hundred questions about her health.

"Tell me exactly what happened, and what injuries you suffered in the fire?"

Nikki obliged, giving an account of everything she remembered from the fateful night and everything she had been told since. She described the hazy memory of falling on the stairs, being dragged out of the building by a neighbour, and collapsing on the street. The painful awakening on the intensive care unit was rehashed, prompting more tears to fall.

"Any breathlessness or breathing problems? Any dizziness? Faints? Fits?"

Nikki shook her head.

"Fine. May I have a look at you, and have a listen to your chest?"

Nikki replied with a nod and made her way to the bed at the side of the room. She undid her blouse and shivered a little at the cold touch of the stethoscope, for which the doctor immediately apologised, but made no attempt to warm. As instructed Nikki took deep breaths, all of the time feeling exposed and vulnerable. She didn't really want to be in that room, spilling her heart to a complete stranger. A perfectly friendly and professional stranger, but a stranger all the same. She made a promise to herself to be more honest with those close to her, so to avoid the sticky situation of having to tell all to yet another doctor in the near future.

The examination was quick and painless, however and Nikki was soon dressed and sitting beside the doctor's desk. There were a few seconds of tapping as Dr Douglas typed a few notes to document the examination on Nikki's record, before she turned back to her patient.

"Now. You touched on how the fire affected you emotionally."

Apprehensively, Nikki nodded. "I think about it almost all the time. I wake up every night and it's like I'm back there. I have a panic attack every time someone lights a candle or a cigarette. I can't go near the hob. And the rest of the time? It's mostly like I'm empty. I don't really feel anything most of the time. All of my emotions are busy making me feel anxious so that when it comes to feeling something else, my mind is too tired." Nikki didn't mention what she had done that morning, when she had lit matches repeatedly until her panic ran out.

The doctor reached out and touched her forearm, a kind gesture.

"Nikki, none of this sounds unusual. This sounds like how I would expect anyone to react after such a terrifying experience. I don't want you to think that you have some kind of weakness for acting this way; I think you have been very strong and you are doing all the right things to look after yourself."

Nikki was a little suprised. For some reason, that was not the reaction she expected. "Is there anything else you suggest, doctor?"

"Yes, I think there are a few things we can try. Have you had any mental health problems before?"

Nikki was uncomfortable as she detailed the episode of depression that she had suffered earlier that year. "I was recommended some medication, an SSRI. I didn't take it though, because the case I was working on at the time involved someone acting extremely erratically whilst withdrawing from an SSRI; I didn't want that to happen to me."

The doctor nodded. It wasn't the first time that a patient hadn't taken their medication as prescribed, and it would certainly not be the last.

"How have you been since then?"

"Fine, I suppose," Nikki replied, evasively. It had been a very hard year and not one that she wanted to recount to this doctor.

"Given your history, I would like to prescribe you an antidepressant, an SSRI. They are very helpful for anxiety and panic attacks, as well as depression, so I really think that it will help you Nikki." Dr Douglas could see that her patient was apprehensive. "Please, let me assure you that these drugs are very safe and very effective. The erratic behaviour you described is almost unheard of, and I wouldn't want you to suffer as you are now when there is a medicine that I think can help you. SSRIs are an extremely common drug; of all the prescriptions given in the UK, they are in the top 20 most commonly prescribed medicines."

Nikki was still unsure, but relented. She hadn't realised they were so common, and they couldn't be that much of a problem if so many people were taking them, could they?

"Alright, I will try them," she sighed.

Dr Douglas smiled, pleased that her patient was willing to try some medicine.

"I'm going to give you an SSRI called Sertraline, one of the commonest. There are a couple of side effects that some people experience, like nausea or a dry mouth, but these tend to improve with time. Sertraline can take two to four weeks to start to take effect, but please persevere through those first few weeks."

"Is there anything that might work quicker?" Nikki didn't like to ask, but wasn't sure if she could cope with another two weeks of feeling as she did.

The doctor was thoughtful. "I could give you a small amount of a drug called diazepam. This is used to reduce anxiety, but can take up to 40 minutes to work if you take a tablet. It can also be addictive, which would mean I'd only be able to give you a short course of a small dose, and I would want to see you again next week."

Having to return to the doctors so soon was the deal-breaker. She would just have to manage, somehow.

"Don't worry, then. I will try and cope without those."

"Okay. Before I prescribe these, I just need to check if you are on any other medication?"

"Just the Pill," Nikki replied.

"Any allergies?"

"None that I know of."

"Fine. I know this is an uncomfortable question, but I have to ask this: have you had any thoughts about harming yourself?"

Nikki was shocked. "No, not at all."

"Where are you living at the moment? Do you have somewhere to stay?" Dr Douglas was concerned, as she knew how difficulties in social situation made treating mental health problems more difficult to manage.

"Yes, I am staying with a ah… a friend." Once again, it was difficult to describe her relationship with Harry. _Friend_ or _colleague_ never seemed enough. "He makes sure I am okay."

The doctor nodded as she tapped away at her computer keyboard. Seconds later, a printer whirred to life and spat out a green slip of paper, onto which Dr Douglas scribbled an illegible signature.

"Here is your prescription for the SSRI. I would like to see you back in two to three weeks to see how you are getting on, and I would like to discuss some counselling or talking therapies when I next see you."

Nikki nodded mutely.

"I'd like you to come back sooner if you have any problems or if you start to feel worse. Don't suffer in silence."

Nikki nodded again.

"Anything else I can help you with?"

This time, Nikki forced a smile. "No, thank you doctor, you have been very helpful."

"I'm so glad I could help, Nikki. Don't hesitate to make another appointment if you want to talk about anything."

Clutching the green slip of paper, Nikki said her goodbyes to the doctor and headed out into the waiting room. Though she still felt a little unsure about the medication she had been prescribed, the words of the doctor had reassured her somewhat. Besides, any unusual behaviour from her would not go unnoticed under Harry's perceptive gaze. As she crossed the waiting room, he looked up from his phone, smiling automatically when he saw her.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, mindful of the other patients surrounding them.

"Yes, I think so."

Harry held out Nikki's jacket, letting her slip her arms into it and resting his hands on her shoulders briefly until she turned to face him again.

"We have to go to the pharmacy. The doctor gave me a prescription," Nikki told him.

"What did she prescribe?" Harry said, seeing the green paper she was holding for the first time.

"Something called sertraline. It's an SSRI."

Their eyes locked, expressions serious.

"Are you sure you want to take an SSRI, Niks?"

Her expression was apprehensive, but she replied with a determined voice. "The doctor thinks they will be helpful and assured me that they are safe."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure. I think I need to give something a chance."

By that point, they were outside the waiting room and on their way to the pharmacy across the car park, shivering in the cold.

"I think it's a good thing you've seen a doctor," said Harry.

"It was helpful, I suppose," she replied. "She asked about you, where I was staying. That kind of thing."

"And you told her only good things?" Harry couldn't help grin as he held open the door to the pharmacy.

"Of course," she said as they joined the small queue inside. "I've probably told you a hundred times, but I am so glad you let me stay."

"Make that a thousand times! You can stop thanking me; you know I'm happy to have you around."

But of course, Nikki would always feel grateful and would always want to thank Harry for being there for her. As they approached the counter, an idea crossed her mind of just how she could start to really show Harry how grateful she was.

* * *

 _SSRIs are super common and, having rewatched "A Guilty Mind" fairly recently (and with a lot more knowledge than I had the first time around), I don't understand why the BBC writers chose to portray them as some kind of devil-serum. As I mentioned in this chapter, SSRIs are an extremely commonly prescribed drug and the vast vast majority of those taking them do so with no problems whatsoever. I feel that the episode "A Guilty Mind" only contributed to the stigma of taking medicines for mental illness, which is not a very helpful message for the BBC to be putting out there. Anyway, that's my two cents, and I feel a little better having written my 'rebuttal', as it were._


	20. Chapter 20

_Well, I apologise for the long delay in this chapter. An awful lot has gone on in the past 6 weeks that has somewhat taken me away from all of this! But I have officially finished university (so it is Dr Caramelchan now!) and now have the next 6 weeks off. Hopefully that means updates won't be so few and far between! (Famous last words!) I can only thank you for your patience and continued reading :)  
_

* * *

Janet hummed to herself as she moved around the small kitchen, fetching fresh basil leaves from the windowsill and pasta from a large jar on a worktop. There was a pause in her tune as she took a sip of red wine. Glancing at the clock, she knew that it wouldn't be long before Leo came home and she wanted to have food nearly ready for both of them when he did. Sure enough, the front door clicked open a few minutes later and Leo soon appeared.

"Leo," Janet murmured in soft greeting. Looking at him, she could see that he looked exhausted. His shoulders were slumped, worn down by the stress of the day and of the past week. Yet he still reached out to her, taking Janet's hand in his own and kissing her on the corner of the mouth. It was warm and tender; Janet couldn't resist returning the kiss, first on the lips and then on the forehead as Leo's head dropped forward.

"Something is bothering you," she observed.

"How did you guess?" said Leo, speaking for the first time since he had returned to his home. "It's this case. The fires. Every time I find out some new information, it seems to make everything worse and not better."

"Oh?" Janet asked. She offered a glass of wine to Leo, which he gratefully accepted.

"I think we have a name for the man who might be setting these fires."

"That's good news, isn't it?" Janet was half listening, stirring the creamy pasta sauce as Leo spoke.

"We have a name, but we didn't have any luck tracking him down. He could be anywhere, or living under a new identity; I just don't know."

"How did you get the name?"

"I went to see the woman who was burned in the fire a while ago. The one who survived. Her name is Annie."

"The one who looks like Nikki?"

Leo winced. "She certainly does not look like Nikki anymore. The scarring from the burns – it was the worst I have ever seen. It must have been a miracle that she pulled through."

Janet set the plates on the table and placed a hand over Leo's, offering comfort as best she could. They then ate in silence for a few moments. Janet's pasta was nearly gone, while Leo chased his around the plate with his fork.

"Something else is wrong."

Janet never asked how he was feeling; she could always tell.

"I just can't understand what kind of a person would do something like this. Why the fires? There's something about fire that just spreads this… terror. Why would he want to bring that upon someone?"

"Don't torture yourself with the 'why' of a case like this. Some things are too difficult for good people to understand."

"Maybe it will help."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it will help with the case if I understand why."

Janet sighed, knowing that Leo wanted her to give him a professional opinion on the case - an unofficial profile of the perpetrator of the fires.

"People who set fires typically fit the 'angry young men' stereotype. They feel persecuted, or may indeed have been abused, and then begin to use fire to control those they feel are attacking them, for want of a better word."

"That doesn't explain why they choose fire though," asked Leo, confused. "There are plenty of ways of bullying or intimidating someone without burning a house down."

"That's true. In these individuals, there may have been a fire in their past. Perhaps they survived a house fire as a child?"

"I would have thought that would have made them more scared of fire."

"Surprisingly, the opposite is often the case. Those who have suffered as a consequence of a fire while young have a deeper understanding of the fear that it can cause, so are more likely to want to use it against others. Sometimes, they feel that their bad experience with fire is a part of them and that it is an important factor in their personality. Often, fire might be perceived as the only way that these individuals have of expressing themselves. Of course there are some who find fire exciting – the word 'pyromaniac' is often used – but these are the exception rather than the rule, even amongst arsonists."

"That's very interesting. And unexpected." Leo drained his wine glass.

"Really?"

"I suppose I just thought that it would be closer to that stereotype. That might be easier to understand."

"Surely you could understand the desire for retribution? Even if you don't feel it yourself, could you see why someone would want revenge if they feel they have been treated poorly? They go over and over every slight or insult that they feel has been sent their way, then use the fire as a punishment to those who have wronged them."

Leo was lost in thought about Janet's comments. Could Annie's break up with the man she had identified as Peter Sanders have contributed to the fire that had caused her so much suffering?

Janet cleared the table around Leo; he was oblivious to her as she took away the plates and refilled his glass. It wasn't often that she lost Leo to a case, but this particular investigation had involved one of his team. Janet knew that Harry and Nikki were almost a surrogate family for Leo and what affected one of them would affect them all.

Once the dinner was cleared away, the couple made their way to the living room. Leo's arm ended up draped around Janet's shoulders as they sat together, but neither were comfortable or relaxed. Both were still preoccupied with the conversation they had had over dinner.

"What did you find out from visiting the previous fire victim?" Janet asked tentatively, hating Leo's silence.

"Annie identified the man that Nikki saw at the crime scene. She gave us a name; she had been in a relationship with him, apparently. That ended some time before the attack though."

"Sounds to me like that could be a reason _for_ the attack," speculated Janet.

"Even if the relationship was over, what, six months before the attack?" Leo was sceptical.

"In the right individual, it could be. It may be that this man wanted to control her, Annie, by using fear. Like I said, sometimes fire can be used to seek revenge or exert a force over those who are perceived to have wronged the fire-setter. I would think that the breakdown of a relationship would be a prime example of something that someone might want to have more control over."

"Alright. That sounds plausible enough. But what about Melanie Cooper? The second victim, the one Nikki did the post mortem for?" It was hard to believe that less than a week had passed since Nikki had attended that crime scene, which may have set the wheels in motion that led to a fire in her house. So much had happened since Leo and Janet had sat in the pub with Harry and Nikki that night.

"Melanie Cooper… you told me that her husband said that she had been having an affair?"

Leo nodded. He thought he could see what Janet was thinking.

"Could Melanie Cooper have been having an affair with the same man that Annie had been having an affair with? Physically, they are quite similar women. It's not beyond the bounds of possibility that this man has a type and sticks to it, that's certainly not uncommon."

At that, Leo started to feel a little more like himself for the first time that evening.

"You mean like Harry's never-ending stream of pretty brunettes?"

"Exactly," Janet giggled. "Lots of men have a type."

"And maybe this man does too. Annie breaks up with him, so he sets her home on fire. Later, he is having an affair with Melanie. Then what, she ends the relationship as well? He asks her to leave her husband and she refuses? Whatever the trigger, he then decides to burn down her house in the hopes that he can force her to make the decision that he wants?"

"I'll make a psychologist of you yet, Leo Dalton," said Janet, smiling.

"Then how does Nikki fit into all of this? I feel confident that she didn't have a relationship with him, even if she does fit 'the type' – I would have heard about it constantly from Harry if she had."

"It can't be a coincidence that the fire at Nikki's flat was the same day that she went to the crime scene. Or that she and the other victims look very similar. She can't have been at the wrong place at the wrong time, I just wouldn't buy that." Janet was sure that the fact that Nikki had been dragged into the very same case that she had begun to investigate could not have happened by chance.

Leo, was struck with a sudden realisation. "Of course. Janet, Nikki saw the man that we think is doing this. The man who had been having an affair with Melanie Cooper showed up at the crime scene whilst Nikki was there! Why couldn't I see it before? When he saw Nikki, he saw the similarity to Melanie and Annie. Maybe he understood that Nikki was investigating the fire; maybe he targeted her to stop her from helping the investigation, and it was just a coincidence that she fits the type?"

"Or maybe he saw her and was excited that she fit the type, and it just happened to be a bonus for him that hurting Nikki would hinder the investigation?"

None of the revelations shared between Janet and Leo would have been admissible in a court; they both knew that. Janet was especially aware that conclusions from criminal profilers were treated as some of the weakest evidence in any given case. After talking to Janet it all made sense, but despite the breakthroughs, Leo knew that the hardest job was still to come. Proving their theory would not be easy. And yet, Leo felt a sudden clarity in his mind; it was like he had been doing a jigsaw, fitting together the small pieces without seeing the full picture.

"You – are – brilliant – Janet," said Leo, punctuating each word with a kiss on her cheek, before finally lingering on her lips.

"Leo," she giggled as he pulled away slightly.

"Thank you for cheering me up. This case is getting to me more than it should," Leo admitted.

"I think it's getting to you exactly as much as it should. Nikki is involved; this isn't a normal case for any of you. And I think you're all doing brilliantly." Janet knew the perfect words for most situations. "Speaking of which," she continued. "Have you spoken to Nikki today?"

"No, why?"

"I just know she was seeing the doctor today. I wonder how it went, that's all."

"I spoke to Harry briefly, but that was whilst Nikki was seeing the doctor," Leo told Janet. "I had to let him know what Annie had told me. Now, that reminds me. Did Nikki say anything interesting last night?"

"What do you mean, interesting?" Janet's interest was piqued.

"Oh, so she didn't mention that she kissed Harry the night before?" There was a gleam of excitement in Leo's eyes; though not normally one to gossip, he and Janet had often despaired good naturedly of Harry and Nikki and their total obliviousness.

"What? Why on earth have you waited so long to tell me this?" Janet was aghast, desperate for details.

"There isn't much to tell, to be honest. Harry said that Nikki ran away to bed pretty much straight away."

Janet rolled her eyes. "They are useless!"

Leo smiled, remembering that _'useless'_ was one of the words Harry had used whilst talking about the very same situation.

"I don't know, sometimes it is possible to make use of them. When I spoke to Harry earlier, I checked to see if he was still happy to cover this weekend, which means that I am off work for the next two days!"

"That will probably do you good, you've been working so hard."

"I was thinking that we could go away for a bit. Spend the night in a little hotel on the coast."

"Oh Leo, that sounds lovely. Do you have somewhere in mind?"

Leo did, and had made a call to the hotel earlier than day, as soon as he had checked that Harry was happy to hold the fort while he was away. Though still anxious about Nikki, Leo knew that a little time away from it all would refresh him no end. Besides, Harry and Nikki were adults, after all. Technically, they could look after themselves.

* * *

 _The idea and much of the content for this chapter came from a Radio 4 program I listened to back in October, when the idea for this story was taking shape. I was in the car on the way back from placement, stuck in traffic as usual, and a psychologist came on to discuss the motives for arson. It was perfect! Much of Janet's insight is derived from what I learned from listening to the radio._

 _Again, I thank you for reading and would love to hear from you._


	21. Chapter 21

_I can only apologise for another long-ish delay in publishing but I hope this chapter makes up for it (it is my absolute favourite chapter and it was hard work to get right but I hope you like it!)_

* * *

It had been a quiet, content and comfortable afternoon for Harry and Nikki. After the visit to the doctor and the pharmacy, they had stopped for a coffee. It was warm inside the café and they sat on a sofa that was a little too small for two people to sit on without constantly brushing against each other.

"How is your head?" Nikki asked, putting down the two large drinks that she had insisted on paying for. It was the first mention that either of them had made about the fact that Harry had perhaps had a little too much to drink the previous night.

"I'm fine," he replied with a slight chuckle. Since everything that had been said the night before, Nikki had been much warmer towards Harry than she had the previous day, and for that he was grateful. He couldn't be sure what had triggered the change in her, but he hoped that a few of the drunken words that he remembered had spilled from his lips were something to do with it. Equally, Nikki could have been feeling accomplished that she was able to light the hob without breaking down, or relaxed because the visit to the doctor was behind her, so Harry did not want to get his hopes up. He felt vulnerable, having let his feelings be known, but pleased that doing so seemed to have improved things between himself and Nikki.

"I have been thinking," she said, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Be careful," he interjected, earning a small smirk and shake of the head from Nikki.

"Shush. I've been thinking that it might be nice for me to cook dinner for you tonight. You know, to say thank you for being so brilliant. I don't know how I would have coped without you."

"Nikki, for the thousandth time, you don't have to say thank you!"

"I'm not saying thank you! I'm cooking your dinner instead of saying it."

"You really don't have to," he replied, taking hold of her hand that rested on her lap. "Look, if the situation had been reversed and my house had burned down, would you have me stay in a hotel or would you let me stay at yours?"

"You would stay at mine, of course," she replied without a trace of doubt. Crucially, she didn't pull her hand away like she might have done, only the day before.

"Exactly. So just let it go?"

"Shut up and let me cook for you!" she replied, slightly exasperated but clearly more amused with his stubbornness than annoyed. "We need to go to the supermarket on the way home so I can buy the things I need."

Harry sighed, knowing that Nikki probably would not let this go. His resolve crumbling slightly; it would be nice to be cooked for and looked after a little.

"Are you sure? There's no need to cook if you don't want to. If you don't feel up to it," he said.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't feel up to it. Please, just let me do this for you?"

There was a hint of a smile in her brown eyes that reminded him of the version of Nikki that he knew when he first met her; the fascinating woman who crashed onto his desk and into his life, then refused to leave. In that moment, in that café, he was sitting next to the fun and charming Nikki that had shed the baggage that had built up between them in the past week, but also in the past year and before. Seeing her dressed in her usual skinny jeans and heeled boots, Harry was enjoying a glimpse of the "old Nikki". It was hard to believe that so much had happened to her. All of this meant that Harry was going to let her have it her way.

"Fine. You can cook dinner. What are we having?"

"I have been thinking about curry, if you like? We could get some beers as well."

Harry had a brief image of the multiple pans on the hob required for a curry and began to worry. "Are you sure you will be okay?"

Nikki nodded, but looked unsure. "I want to try. I want to be able to just be normal again and cooking is something normal. I don't know if I am there yet, but I will have to try."

Harry was filled with pride at her determination to work hard to gain control over herself again.

"I know you want to do this yourself, but I will be there if you need me," he said.

"You always are," she replied.

Harry resisted the urge to reply, to say that he always would be. It might be the kind of sentiment that their almost-fledgling-relationship might not be able to take. Because that was how he felt towards Nikki at that moment; that the air between them had subtly changed the night before, that they had taken one baby step over whatever distance that there had been between them. Harry could only pray that inside, Nikki's feelings mirrored his own.

A silence fell over them, a calm bubble in the midst of the bustling café. At tables nearby, couples sat and exchanged smiles and glances while they sipped, and mothers bounced babies on their knees. A nearby student flipped through a hefty textbook and another tapped away on a laptop. None of this disturbed Harry or Nikki, who might have well been sitting together in an empty room. Their hands were still clasped together between them and their knees tapped together every time they shifted in their seats. Both felt a strange sense of anticipation, sensing that things between them had somehow changed.

"Ready?" asked Harry, noticing both of their empty cups. The skies looked grey and he would rather be home when the rain started to come down.

"Sure. Let's go," Nikki replied. In truth, she would have been happy to sit and hold Harry's hand all day. As always, the moment couldn't last.

Before long, they were inside the supermarket, picking their way through the vegetable aisle.

"What do you even need for a curry?" Harry asked, as Nikki picked up onions and garlic, dropping them into the basket he was holding.

"Don't tell me you haven't actually cooked a curry before," said Nikki, incredulously. "You were a student for what, five years?"

"Six actually. I just got a take away whenever I wanted one."

Nikki shook her head. "How did you afford it?"

He shrugged whilst holding up a rudely shaped carrot, causing Nikki to laugh.

"Grow up," she said, smiling to let him know she didn't mean it.

Walking about the supermarket with Harry, laughing and chatting as they planned their meal, was so simple that it was a relief. Nikki could allow herself to feel almost optimistic, almost hopeful. Outwardly, they could be just any normal couple, going about their everyday life, with eyes only for each other. Could it be possible, wondered Nikki as they picked some chicken breasts, that one day they would be just that? A normal couple?

-X-

Struggling under the load of all of their shopping, Harry and Nikki eventually made it into Harry's kitchen.

"We won't have to go shopping for months," said Harry, surveying the piles of food that covered his kitchen counter.

"Are you hungry, Harry? I can start cooking now," replied Nikki.

"That sounds excellent. Do you need a hand?" Harry offered as he started to unpack the shopping bags.

"Absolutely not, I am making dinner for you. I want to thank you for everything you have done without actually saying thank you. So you have to take this beer and go and relax whilst I cook."

As she spoke, she pushed a bottle of cold beer into his hand. She let his fingers close over hers as the bottle changed hands, pleased to allow herself to feel the warmth of his skin. That was nothing, though, compared to the warm of the smile that he bestowed on her.

"God, you are perfect," he said, grinning as he stepped away (with considerable reluctance).

Once settled on the sofa, the implication of what he had said caught up with him. _Perfect?_ Of course, Nikki could be perfect for him - maybe she already was. But once again, Harry felt that he had let his messy feelings spill into the outside world unchecked. Little did he know that Nikki's face had lit up as his words and she had been filled with a confidence and resolve that she had almost forgotten that she had. It was this resolve that helped her to light the hob; her hands barely shook and the light sheen of sweat that prickled on her skin was so slight as to be almost unnoticeable. After a few deep breathes, she had managed to steady herself and busied herself with pans and chopping boards. The kitchen was soon littered with vegetable peelings, but smelt of aromatic spices and delicious warmth. There were a few moments, as Nikki stirred the bubbling curry sauce, when she wasn't thinking about the flames on the hob at all. For a few seconds, all that filled her mind was the food – were the onions browned and soft? Had she added enough coconut milk? Where were the raisins to add that finishing touch? For a few seconds at a time, Nikki was just a normal woman who had not narrowly survived a house fire. She was just someone cooking a meal for someone she cared about. Sure, when she brushed against the warm pan or saw a flicker of a flame, her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced. But she managed to stay in control. Nikki felt that she was on her way back to plain and simple and _normal._

-X-

Later, when Nikki called Harry to the dinner table, he felt a surge of fierce pride. All the while that she had been cooking, Harry had been waiting for Nikki to call to him. He had half expected her to not manage to be in such close proximity to a lit hob for long enough to prepare a meal without descending into panic. However, as he sat down, he chastised himself for doubting her.

"This smells wonderful," he said appreciatively.

"Thank you," replied Nikki. She was relieved that the entire meal had been prepared without a hitch. Though still present, her fear had stayed inside her and under control. Plus, she thought, Harry looked pleased – which was the entire point, wasn't it?

They ate in a comfortable silence, which was only occasionally broken by Harry's praise for the food.

Soon, both had set down their knives and forks onto their empty plates. It was as if the metallic clatter of cutlery had broken the spell – after an entire day of warm companionship, the air between them suddenly seemed cool and uneasy, as if they were both waiting for the other to do something.

Harry broke first, unable to stand another second of words that were unsaid. He reached across the table for Nikki's hand and stared at their interlocking fingers for a long while before looking up and meeting her eyes. "What are we doing, Nikki?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he replied with a sigh.

"You mean, what you said to me last night?"

Harry nodded mutely. He felt a slight flush on his cheeks as he recalled what he had said, his heart racing at the crystal-clear memory. He knew that he had said all that he could: _I wish you would kiss me again. That's all._

After a long silence, Nikki spoke. "All day, I've been thinking about it. What you said." Her gaze was unwavering and intense; her tone dripped with suggestion.

Harry was breathless, captivated by possibilities.

"Come to bed, Harry."

He gaped, dumbstruck at Nikki's suggestion.

"Come to bed," she said again. She didn't wait for a response and walked past Harry on her way to the stairs, finally pulling her hand from his grasp.

For Harry, following her was a reflex; he didn't think, just let his legs carry him to his bedroom without the interruption of higher function.

In the bedroom, Nikki was sitting on the edge of the bed. There was an air of apprehension about her, as if she had already used up all of her conviction and determination. Harry watched her from the doorway, just as she looked up at him.

"Nikki. I didn't think it would be like this." There was exasperation and amusement in his voice in equal measure as he finally broke the endless silence.

"What do you mean, you didn't think it would be like this? You've thought about this?"

"Of course I've thought about it. Haven't you?"

Nikki shrugged. For once her meaning was clear, despite all the words that were left unsaid. Of course she'd thought of this moment. In every kiss that they had shared, Nikki had thought that they would eventually arrive at that moment.

"I just thought things would be a little more… spontaneous."

"Is this not spontaneous enough?" There was a slight cricking of Nikki's eyes; a small smile that dragged Harry from his imagination and back to reality.

"More romantic, then," he replied, before pausing to run a hand over his face. "God Nikki, I've thought about you like this a thousand times. But it was never like this. I never imagined that you would be hurting like this. Hurting like I know that you are."

There was a long silence between them. Harry remained standing out of Nikki's reach, knowing that even the lightest touch from her would break his resolve to say everything that he needed to say.

"You're hurting so much Nikki. So much that I can't quite tell if you genuinely want me, or if you just want someone to kiss it better. I know that you need that, someone to make you feel good and loved and wanted. But once I start, I won't be able to stop and if you get to the point where you don't need kissing better any more, where you don't need me? What then?"

The words hung in the air between them.

"Both. I need both. I need kissing better, but I want you."

"What?"

"It has to be you, Harry. I need you."

His next words came out as a growl. "That's good enough for me."

Harry took a step towards her, as Nikki stood up from the bed. They collided hard, fingers tangling in the others hair. The kiss was hungry and desperate, the product of too many years of waiting in anguish. Nikki had time to let out a breathy whisper – "Oh, Harry," – before his lips claimed hers once again.

As Harry had said, once they started they were unable to stop.


End file.
